Beyond Sense and Experience
by LadyPaige
Summary: (An Arrow/Flash/General DC and Marvel crossover) Set five months after the Glades were almost leveled, where by the police force joined with the Hood, the Queen and Yao family, and a former marine, by the name of Slade Wilson. Moira Queen is facing trail as an accomplice for the terrorism attack...
1. Only The Start

**Yes, this will feel more based in Season 3 but that's because if the undertaking never happened, things would likely have ended the same happy, everyone safe way season 2 did. With sameish results. And yes, the arrowhead is the one from the logo of season 3.**

**Thank you merrinpippy for Betaing :D**

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><p><strong>Set five months after the Glades were almost leveled, where by the police force joined with the Hood, the Queen and Yao family, and a former marine, by the name of Slade Wilson. Moira Queen is facing trail as an accomplice for the terrorism attack. With Malcolm dead, Tommy has also been given the blame for his father's acts. Not only that but then S.T.A.R. Labs in Central City underwent an experiment that caused the particle accelerator to explode. Creating some interesting after marks.<strong>

**Slade and Oliver planned to get married, they even found an new apartment, both to live in a nicer area and so that Thea could stay, who still refuses to return home. So, Slade has a new job in the Starling S.W.A.T unit, a new apartment, visits his mother in law in prison and drinks with his new cop buddies, but the one thing he never expected, was for someone he believed deceased to show up, very much alive, and to pretty much demand he and Oliver look after a child... And that's not even the crazy part.**

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><p>It was seven in the morning, and being mid December, the sun was only just starting to rise, giving the sky a pink and orange glow, between the cracks of the multitude of high buildings. The clouds were red, it would likely rain today. From only the second floor, the view was pretty bleak, although from a skyscraper, it must have been fantastic. The mixture of warm colours made slightly unclear but visible through many glass walls of other companies, like autumn leaves under the soft ripples of a slow running river.<p>

Slade Wilson, former marine commander and ASIS agent, found himself sitting at Lance's new desk, in his new office right at the end of the floor, filling out the last of his employment forms. As a newly appointed member of S.W.A.T, Slade did not really need a desk. Like the fire department, he spent most of his time training and waiting around for what he might have to do. He had his own unit, own place to hang around but that was just down the hall and more often than not, he found himself chatting with Lance. Being part of law enforcement meant that he could hear about cases to a point and his ability to speak and read many languages -including lips- was something useful that some had requested him for.

Over the past five months, Slade had become a permanent fixture in the department and was pretty much a cop that just did not close cases but then again he also did not have to suffer the paperwork, although he had good inputs on what to write -seeing as he had spent a lot of his life working around the law- so he often helped the officers out with their own work. No one aside from Lance, even Slade's new cop buddies, knew what work he had done after the navy or the darker stuff during his years in the navy. All that time, which also covered what happened on the island, was hidden with classifications, strictly "need to know". People had long since stopped asking, thankfully, but they all knew that Slade was nowhere near close to regular military.

Slade glanced up when he heard part of the news report from yesterday being played from the TV held up by metal bars, in the corner of the office. His thick calloused fingertips brushing the grey hair that ran up along his temple. It was funny that, after years of living such a stressful and physically exhausting life, now, at the age of forty-one, his hair was turning grey. Be it only those areas, he would start to worry when it affected his body hair. Oliver did not mind, in fact, like Slade's tattoo, it was a change Oliver was fascinated by and loved. He said that Slade seemed to get better looking with age, which the Australian knew to be true. He was not an attractive teenage or young adult. Oliver had laughed when Thea tried to convince Slade to let her dye his hair.

The report showed Lance in his Captain uniform, a rank he had been awarded since he and Slade took the task of disarming the Markov devices.

For keeping the department calm and in control, Lieutenant Pike was now a Major, which had him working in city hall. Lance took control of the police department. He no longer needed to work the streets but he still did, and he had a new office all to himself, which, like now, Slade offended crashed in.

Quentin stood before a podium with a microphone stood on top. He spoke about how the police force had come together with the Hood and his brother and sister in arms, to save the city. The clip was of him saying that the squad to find the Hood had been disbanded, that although the archer and his fellow fighter were not immune to the law, he would be allowed to act without facing charges. The recording cut to the part that always made Slade smile.

_"When the Hood was asked for a name; he said nothing but this,"_ Lance took out a bundle of wrapping paper, undoing it to show the item inside. It was an arrow-head. It was wider than what was useful, about the size of a police badge and it was flat. It was one of Oliver's diamond arrowheads, like he had back on the island. The sides were softened, and it did not end there. Around it, made of the same piece of metal, was a three-point arrow, the sides curved in, and it had a sharpened wide diamond at the bottom. The larger arrow was carved with little markings and the bottom two ends had three little lines cut out of their outer sides.

_"This was discovered just this morning,"_ He held the arrowhead out for all to see. The stainless steel metal shined in the sun, flashing the reflections of the paparazzi's cameras. _"I would like to formally welcome the Arrow to Starling city."_

Slade looked out the window to the rising sun. It was quite early; Slade was one of the few people here, and the only other person than Lance who was not part of the night shift. So, the offices were near empty, were void of ringing phones -at the moment- and large amounts of chatter, but it was damn cold. The cold was one of the few things Slade hated about Starling, if 'a few' meant the people, view, light pollution, noise, traffic, the ease of which you could get lost and the sheer mentality of it all.

With all that was happening, moving into a new apartment, Slade starting a new job, Oliver having to take control of Queen Consolidated and spending his nights as the Arrow, and of course, Moira's triall, Oliver had really needed that announcement.

Speaking of Oliver, he should be waking up by now. He would make himself some coffee, ignore the importance of food and paperwork, his excuse being that he could do either first thing in the morning. After a quick warm up and his stretches, he would have breakfast, ignore his paperwork again and head over to his club for any Arrow business. At some point, Felicity would force him to show up to his normal job and get some work done, where he would stay till the afternoon, which, as sunset was currently at about half four, meant that Oliver would jump into his other job, working until the night, as long as he was not busy.

Even Thea was juggling working as an intern for Laurel and running the club with Tommy at night. Her newly found brother. She had been shocked at first, horrified really but she had to be told. Now, the two were okay with the whole thing, but for Thea, no one else who did not already know, was told. Minus Laurel for Tommy's sake.

All in all, they were all busy these days, and the final week of the trial had everyone on edge. And not just because of what it meant for Moira, after, regardless of what the verdict was, Slade and Oliver would be announcing their engagement, but before that happened, Slade wanted everything to be done right this time. Before, he had more asked Oliver if he liked the idea of marrying him- that's what it felt to Slade anyway. Oliver was his world, and he deserved all that Slade could give him and more.

"Good morning," Lance yawned, sitting down on his guest chair. He sat his jaw on his hand, elbow on his desk. His eyes were still drooping and he looked more weary than he had last night, for a man who had been asleep since then. "It's far too early. How are you coping?"

"I got up at six."

Lance would have made a seriously flabbergasted expression had he been more awake. The most he could spare at this point was a twitch of his brow. "What's wrong with you?"

Slade chuckled. "I'm a morning person. Mornings are quiet."

"Nothing is quiet in a city."

"Don't remind me."

Lance smirked at that. "How did it go with the shrink yesterday?" It should have been a one time trip but since the Captain had let slip in the wrong company about Slade's plan to effectively blow himself up, and due to the records about his loss of family and his years of what were classed as "high risk" missions, suicidal tendencies were something that had been brought up and needed to be faced. Although Slade did not mind, he was however irritated that reporters had found out what he had nearly done.

"She can't take a joke."

"What did you say?"

"She told me that it was recommended that I come see someone if I ever kill anyone on the job."

"And you asked if off the job counted?"

Slade smiled. "No, I asked if I had to every time."

Lance let out a laugh at that, sounding more like a hiss as it came out so suddenly. "It's hard to tell when you're being serious. To be honest, I'm still not sure if you meant that as a joke."

Slade shrugged.

"Either way, I just saw your report, you're all clear. Although if you keep coming down and helping with the paperwork, I'm pretty sure Paker will buy you a bottle of brandy."

Slade pressed his lips together in a thoughtful frown, nodding to himself. "I do like it in coffee."

Lance made a face at that. It sounded gross, worse when you knew Slade liked his coffee black. "What's in the bag?" he asked, spotting the paper bag sat on his deck, looking puffed out and weighed down.

Slade took hold of the opening with his finger and thumb, holding it out so Lance could see what was inside. "Jewellery. Moira's. I'm going to see her again today, figure out what she wants for the trial."

"Oh," Lance nodded. The two had really bonded since her imprisonment, at first because Slade was the only person who came to visit her but after coming to see her pretty much everyday; doing everything from working on her case to playing monopoly on Slade's phone, it had become the highlight of her week. His visits also put her in a good light in the eyes of the public since neither of her children had yet to pay her a visit.

As Slade was seen as a hero, not only for going to disarm the devices but for nearly killing himself to do so, him showing up at court on Moira's behalf, both to explain what had happened down in the subway and that the events of the island were classified, the fact that he also came for Moira's moral support did her appearance wonders. But, this did mean he had to be the one to speak the hard truths.

_"Did you kill on the island?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Did Oliver?"_

_"No,"_ Slade had lied. _"He defended himself by causing injury but never death."_

He was amazed that Moira had kept such a still face but the pain for her son was clear in her eyes. She did not believe him.

Oliver had told Slade long ago that he did not want anyone to know what he had done. He was proud of his survival and of the skills he had learned, but for those who were not part of this kind of life, killing was a lot to take in. The blonde would have never told Thea, had she not made him, nor would he have shown himself to Tommy, but their acceptance, as little or as long as it took, was worth it.

"But the real reason I'm taking all this," he said, shaking the bag while his other hand fished his coat pocket. "Is so I can hide this."

Lance was about to ask how he was suppose to hide a saw blade when he saw Slade take out a small white box. The size and the stamp of an expensive jeweller's on the top told him all he needed to know.

"The engagement ring?" Lance had to ask. He was still surprised Oliver had said yes to the idea. Gay and getting married was one thing but saying yes to having a ring was still the most unexpected of the bunch.

Slade grinned. "Wanna see?"

Lance nodded, taking the box when it was offered to him. It opened with a creak. There, sat between a white lace covered foam cushion, was what looked to be a white gold ring. It was as thick as a wedding band and large considering the size of Oliver's fingers. In the centre sat a large emerald, framed with metal, with a slightly smaller diamond on each side.

"That looks expensive," Was all Lance could think to say.

"It was. I had to have it made but it was worth it."

"Definitely." Lance handed the box back, watching as Slade admired the ring with a soft smile. "Have you shown Thea?"

"She helped me find the right design," Slade smirked. "She wasn't going to let me off for not telling her about me and Oliver for nothing."

Lance smiled. He stood, grunting as one of his knees clicked. "Coffee?"

"Thank you," Slade said, slipping the box back into his pocket.

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><p>"It's beautiful," Moira gasped, smiling so hard that you could almost forget she was wearing orange overalls.<p>

The two of them were sitting in a private room. The walls were made of stone painted grey, the floor was tiled grey too, while the table, chairs and everything else were metal. A guard also stood at the other side of door, watching.

"I feel like you already know what I'm going to ask but may I have your permission to marry your son?"

Moira's shoulders shook with a laugh, green eyes still on the ring between her fingers. "I could be cruel and say no but we both know I would not. I did not think you would ask, especially when you already asked Oliver."

"That was more me wondering if he would want to," he explained. "I want everything to be perfect."

Moira looked up. "I am glad to hear that, and yes, you have my blessing," she handed the ring back to him. "I want to thank you, Slade."

The Aussie blinked.

"You are all I could have asked for my son and more."

"Thank you."

The conversation quickly slipped into recent events, starting with how Thea was coping with the self-defence Slade had been teaching her, and it flowed from there.

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><p>In a dark and dingy alleyway, the sun long since set, a man stood, his bow drawn, greyish blue eyes keen and waiting to lock on and strike. There was a left turn at the end of the alleyway, and that's where his targets would come from.<p>

As he heard the familiar whistle, he focused, like a snake that had heard its prey.

A disk whizzed up the wall. The archer shot an arrow but missed, the metal clanging against brick. He scowled but drew another arrow for his next target, as his first was already falling to the floor.

He should have been able to hit it anyway, he should have hit the second one better than just the side, the angle was so off that the plastic toy was not even pinned to the wall. He missed the next three but got the last one nailed to the brickwork. His aim should have been better.

"That was good," Oliver said, coming around the corner in a pair of jeans and a blue long-sleeved shirt. "Stop judging yourself."

Roy pulled back his hood. "I'm not-"

"You are," Oliver pointed at the wall. "You're trying too hard. You're going too fast, speedy."

"I'm going at your speed," Roy said with a frown, shifting like he wanted to cross his arms.

"I did not tell you to," Ollie made his way over. "This is about finding your own pace, so you can relax, let your body do what it's suppose to do." He smiled. "I've been trained for five years and I still have a lot to learn. No one can become a master of any level at five months. You will fail and you will definitely makes mistakes but now I know where you are lacking and we will change that."

Roy sighed. "I guess. I'm just tired of sucking."

Oliver smiled. "You should have seen me. I was awful, ask anyone, I really could not hit anything."

"Really?" Roy could not believe that.

"Aim is something you are great at. It takes a whole spectrum of skills to fight with a bow, and although we all have them, they have to be dug out and built up," Oliver said, "What you lack is control because you're forcing yourself to have control without learning what it's for. You need to relax and take the lessons as they come. Control is just homing what you are learning."

Roy nodded. "Sorry."

Oliver shrugged. "No reason to be. You've only just started hitting the streets. It's fast paced, I know, but you'll pick it up," He raised a brow at the way Roy's breath came out harder, his frown coming back. "What's wrong?"

"I'm your shadow."

Oliver blinked. Oh. "I see."

Roy sighed, pulling at his red and black laced up leather suit. He was geared up with a customised recurve bow, quiver, hunting arrows and flechettes, all in red. He also had throwing knives and a combat knife strapped to him, courtesy of Slade. His look was very distinctive, and even came with a maroon mask to hide who he was. He was entirely his own man, his own warrior and yet...

"Arsenal. That's what they're calling me. I'm not even your backup, I'm a damn pack mule."

"Do you know what Slade would say if he was here right now?"

Roy shook his head while letting out a heavy breath. He threw his arms into the air. "What?"

"Yes, you are."

Roy leered at the blonde.

"I know he would because that was the exact reply I got back in two-thousand and seven. You're still in training, you haven't even passed the first year but you will," He glanced down to the mahogany red leather. "Do you know why I said red?"

"After my hoodie."

Oliver nodded. "My suit is a reminder of the island. A colour I felt comfortable in. It's also the first thing I really saw after the boat went down, after dad died," he gulped. "After finding the list. It felt like it was meant to be, more so when Yao Fei gave his hood. Doing this, I never felt like I needed an image or a name, I still don't, because I made the image and the name what it was, not the other way around. These things won't make you memorable, you make them memorable," He looked deep into Roy's eyes as he spoke.

"Now," Oliver went about picking the Frisbees up from the floor. "Let's try that again."

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><p>Thea could not stop smiling as Diggle dropped herself, her brother and Slade at a small park on the outskirts of the city, only a mile from the Queen manor, but that was not why they were there. Oliver had no idea why they were there. Slade was wearing a black tailored suit with a white shirt. Which by itself was odd but, had he seen a tie around Slade's neck, he would have been worried.<p>

Walking along path, the three of them walked side by side. The grass was wet from the day of a nearly constant downpour, the leaves a lime green from onset of morning frost, yet tonight almost felt warm, the night air still. The area was sparsely covered by trees and for the first time in a while, the sky was dark blue, not even close to black. Even the few thin puffs of clouds were a pale blue. The only lighter shades were circling the full moon, which was a brilliantly blinding bright white. A few white stars also dotted the sky, just the right amount to make the sky seem brighter yet dark in contrast, almost like the whole scene had been painted by an artist.

"Are either of you going to tell me what we're doing here?" Oliver asked. Slade gave him a completely still look and Thea could not meet his eyes, even when he tried to follow her vision, going so far as to walk around her, leading her to do a full spin to get away from him.

After Oliver went all the way around, Slade grabbed hold of his hand. "I just wanted to be peaceful for this."

"For what?"

Slade led him further into an open area, ushering him to sit down on a wooden bench.

"Alright," Oliver held up his hand upon sitting down. "What is going on here? You two are acting weird."

Thea took a few steps away, watching as Ollie looked to his boyfriend.

"Oliver Queen."

"Slade Wilson?" The blonde gave the older man a funny look but his eyes boggled as Slade got down onto one knee.

Thea rolled back and forth on to her toes, arms to her chest, fists clenched in excitement.

"Oliver," Slade smiled. It was so big, so warm, along with an expression that seemed at peace and yet his lips shifted occasionally, like if he had less control, he would be bobbing about like the youngest Queen. "You are the love of my life and I wish to spend every day for as long as I live, with you, as part of your family," he took the box from where it hid behind his back, opening it before presenting it to his boyfriend. "Will you marry me?"

Oliver smiled. He cupped Slade's clean shaven cheeks with his cold hands, relaxing into the warmth the tanned skin provided. "I would love to," He wrapped his arms around Slade's neck, kissing him with a hard press of lips, wanting to laugh as Thea cheered in the background.

For all that was happening, for all that people knew and all he would have to still hide, Oliver knew that life, in this very moment, was perfect, and with Slade, it could only get better.

Wade Wilson watched, sat on a strong large branch of a sizeable tree, high enough that he was hidden from view. He almost jumped down to make his presence known or at the very least start clapping but that could ruin the moment. He would surprise Slade tomorrow when he came into work.

**So, we're not telling Slade we're alive tonight?** White box asked with his deep monotone voice. A white comic book speech square appearing at the corner of Wade's eye.

_That sucks!_ Yellow box whined, squeaking the last word, along with his own yellow square. Followed by another. _We have to see him again!_

"You two weren't even around at the time," Wade mumbled. He did not feel at ease anymore when the boxes faded out, knowing they would only show up again.

_Yes, we were!_

**Back at the abandoned subway.** White pointed out.

"Well, okay. _Technically_, you were, but you weren't when I last spoke to him. When I was sane."

_We did speak to him, he just never replied!_

**When were we ever sane?**

Wade thought about that for a second before cocking his non-existent brows. "Fair point," he nodded. He looked back to his brother, who at this moment was laughing because the younger sister was hugging him. There must have been a joke Wade had missed.

He ignored the voices, who seemed particularly chatty tonight. Meeting Slade again really must have had him more worried than he thought.


	2. A New Friend

**I had to mess around with the timeline a lot so That Moira could still get out by Christmas. So, yeah. Barry's recovery time was a lot shorter.**

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><p>Oliver lead Slade in to their new apartment, their fingers tangled together.<p>

The apartment was at the top of its complex. It was large with three bedrooms, a master for Slade and Oliver, and two spare rooms. One belonged to Thea, while the other was being used for storage. The bathroom was big enough for a bath and a few teak wood cabinets, one of which had a sink installed on top, and a bath with a shower head up on the wall. The kitchen was also sizable but it was more long than wide, meaning the dining table had to be placed in the living room, up against a large set of windows facing out into the city.

The kitchen cabinets, Thea's double bed, dining table and chairs were all made of pine, while the coffee table and the frame of Slade and Oliver's king sized bed were made of mahogany. The walls were painted white, the floors oak or grey tiled stone in the bathroom and kitchen. Aside from Slade's swords sitting up on the wall in the master bedroom, the walls were mostly bare, aside from the few pictures dotted about, along with two sets of collage frames.

There were pictures of Oliver and Thea, some with them with Slade or Tommy, and a couple with Robert. There was also one of Moira, one of Yao Fei and Shado trying out a set of leather sofas in a showroom, which now resided in the living room. And one picture of Slade and Wade; they were in ASIS gear and the younger of two was smiling brightly at the camera, which seeing as he was holding it, made the picture a little lopsided. Next to him, Slade was attempting to make an origami flower, eyebrows low, eyes staring intently at the uncooperative piece of folded paper.

Slade stopped to lock the door behind them, pushing across the chain and making sure to leave the key in the door, to make sure he did not lose it but more importantly, to make sure the lock could not be picked. It was part of him to be careful.

Slade returned to Oliver, kissing him passionately. He wrapped his arms around the blonde as he gave way under him, allowing their tongues to meet.

Oliver arched his back as Slade dragged his knuckles down his spine, moaning softly into the man's mouth as the pressure ran down his lower back. He pressed himself even more into Slade's broad chest as the man's large hands slipped down grasping his plump behind, his moans increasing.

Slade moved to Oliver, pulling his shirt collar to the side to kiss long the base of his neck, sucking the area pink before biting down, a steady but hard bite which had Oliver whining and tugging his hair with sharp but long jerks, arm holding his head in place.

Slade pulled back to kiss Oliver again. This kiss was more gentle, still a strong press of lips but it stayed as just. To think that something so simple could convey so much. I need you close. I'm here for you. I need you. I love you.

Oliver kissed back, his hand cupping Slade's jaw, his fingertip circling Slade's ear.

Ollie smiled as they moved apart. "Come on," he took hold of Slade's hand again. With Thea staying at Roy's, it meant the two of them had the place all to themselves, and they could be as loving and loud as they wanted.

Slade snaked an arm around Oliver, holding him to his chest. This made it awkward but funny walking to the bedroom, helping each other dump their jackets and coats along the way.

When they got there, Oliver crawled onto the bed but before he could turn around, Slade was on top of him, grabbing his wrists, his body dropping to the bed with a bounce as Slade pinned them above his head with one hand. He blanketed his body over his partner's, while his spare arm went around Oliver's hips, pulling his backside up to his pelvis, the hardening flesh flush against the soft but firm rump.

Oliver mewed as Slade ground against him, while rubbing at Oliver's bulge straining against his suit. He went to push back but favoured pushing into Slade's grip. The younger hummed in question as Slade pulled his hand away to give him a hard smack to his butt cheek. Oliver let out a heavy moan. It felt so good. His fingers tightened into fists, feeling the engagement ring cut into his skin.

"Not yet," Slade had huskily into Oliver's ear, before moving to run his tongue up Ollie's neck.

Oliver pushed back into his large hard cock. He loved the way Slade would grab or spank his behind, and feeling up against him like this, so turned on and wanting to fuck into his, had Oliver mumbling and begging for more.

Oliver controlled every part of his life, how long he slept, when and if he ate. He made all his own arrows and for the most part, trained alone. He was the leader of his team, so he could not allow himself to be weak, to panic or get upset. Back when he was following the list, he had to be in complete control as both Oliver Queen, playboy, and the Arrow, avenger. More so than he did not or back on the island but control was a thing he needed to have and if he was perfectly honest, being the leader felt right to him. Thinking back, Ollie realised that although he liked to get drunk and sleep around, he also had that element of being in control.

It was with Slade that he was introduced to his hidden kinks. Having his butt touched, spanked, entered, having his neck bitten, being held down and being told what to do. All he had to do was say something if he was not happy. Having Slade take control of his body and doing whatever he wanted to Oliver, and Oliver letting him, felt amazing. He left himself open, vulnerable, and he trusted Slade to give him nothing but pleasure.

"Fuck, Slade," Oliver moaned, thrusting back and forth to Slade.

"What is it?" Slade smirked against his neck, before moving to suck at the side of it.

"Do it again," Oliver asked, rubbing hard against Slade to encourage him.

Slade chuckled. He snaked his arm around to unbuckle the belt, which took quite a bit of tugging at the strap as he could only use one hand, enjoying having Oliver trapped under him. He pulled the dress shirt out from under the waistband, followed by pulling that down, along with his black boxers, to his knees. Leaving his arse and the back of his balls visible.

"Spread your legs," Slade ordered.

Oliver parted his legs as much as his clothing would allow, his behind pushed up as he was kneeling, his chest to the bed.

Slade gave a swift slap to Oliver's butt cheek, making the blonde jerk with a soft gasp, humming moans under his breath after. This happened for the next two slaps, building in volume. The last slap had begging with a breathy; "Yes."

Slade grinned. He moved his hand more to the centre, giving a smack to the sensitive opening, his fingertips fitting the back of Ollie's balls.

"Ah, God," Oliver cried out, voice leaching into a whine as he fisted the bedding. He groaned, eyelashes flickering as Slade rubbed at his perineum. Oliver's back arched as far as his spine would allow, pressing into Slade's fingertip, body craving a rougher touch. "Slade, please."

"Hm?" Slade cocked his head, playing dumb, softening his touch on Oliver while his other hand did not lessen, instead tightening. "What was that?"

"Fuck me," Oliver said in a quiet moan.

Instead of asking again, Slade smiled. He released Oliver's wrist, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades. He sat back on his legs, allowing Oliver to move onto his back, moving forward to peck him on the lips before flopping onto his back to reach the nightstand, taking a bottle of lube from the drawer and turning on the lamp.

Slade rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to see Oliver smiling up at him in the low warm light. He glanced down to Ollie's left hand that lay on his chest. His shirt was raised, showing his blonde snail trail. Flickering for a second down to his privates, seeing his partner standing to attention. Slade smiled when he saw the ring on his fiancé's finger. He lifted his hand to his partner's, stroking along the white gold ring.

"I love it."

Slade's dark eyes returned to the emerald ones. "You deserve the very best," He raised the hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles.

Oliver ran his hand up the back of Slade's neck. "I have you."

Slade did not comment on how cheesy that sounded, favouring joining their lips.

Their kisses were slow, yet demanding, knowing they had all the time in the world.

Slade unbuttoned Oliver's shirt, while the younger man folded his legs up to his body help pull his suit down, fumbling with dress shoes. Once the shirt was undone, Slade pulled it aside, moving to kiss and roll his tongue over one of his nipples.

Oliver gasped, pushing his body towards his fiancé, tugging his own shirt off before unbuttoning Slade's shirt. He ground his leg between Slade's legs, brushing hard against solid package, smiling against Slade's full lips at how the Australian moaned, moving into him.

Slade removed the shirt as Oliver finished, switching to pamper Oliver's other nipple, running the edge of his teeth over the damp nub, his fingertips teasing the other.

Oliver whined softly, but continued, moving his hands down to Slade's belt, before tugging down the last of the clothing between them. Ollie laughed when he heard the thump, followed by another, on the wood floor. Slade must have kicked his boots off. He gripped Slade's hair, manoeuvring him up for a kiss.

The Aussie climbed on top of Oliver, his body curving so he did not have to break the kiss. He placed his hands behind Oliver's knees, parting his legs . He grabbed the bottle, popping it open and squeezing a good amount onto his middle and index fingers. He placed the pad of his finger to Ollie's entrance, smiling at how the blonde melted, body completely relaxing, even as Slade pushed a finger inside of him.

Slade moved in and out, worrying the muscles to relax so he could slip in another. He scissors his fingers to stretch Oliver, opening him to accept a third finger, then a forth. He knew that Oliver did not need all the preparation but he never could stop caring for him, and watching Oliver come undone, hearing him moan and claw at his back, was too good to resist.

Slade lined himself up, pushing just the head inside. Oliver quivered, legs opening wider with a hum. Slade supported himself on his elbows, arms on each side of Oliver's head. He pushed in slowly, drawing a long moan from Ollie, his long legs locking around Slade's hips.

Once Slade was finally all the way in, Oliver took a desperate breath. He felt so full, a unique pleasure that in its own way, was divine.

Slade moved with a simple pace, which built. Feeling that tightness around him, holding him as he moved, indescribable but simply amazing. So, his movements built, as did their shared moans and groans between hurried breaths, their kisses, and every once and a while, their words.

"I love you," Oliver breathed against Slade's jaw.

Slade met the emerald eyes with his black, the two of them dulled by the low light, and yet were so bright with emotion.

"I love you too," Slade said, descending upon Oliver's lips, before he moved to kiss the younger man's forehead. His hips snapped forward, his rhythm sharply pistoning him into the body below him.

It would not be too long before until they reached that moment; bodies acting as if in rigamortis and yet jerking uncontrollably as their minds filled with little electric sparks of pure pleasure, before everything shut down, fatigue setting in, limbs becoming rubber.

* * *

><p>Wade stepped into the Starling City police department, looking over to the Captain's office, only to find only him sitting there. Slade should have been here by now. Must have gone out. Wade hummed in thought. He walked over to the chairs up against the wall for those waiting, grabbing a new paper from a desk as he went. He sat a seat away from a kid whom he had seen sit in that same seat most days of the week, waiting for his uncle, so the two of them could get an early lunch. The young officer who sat by the desk at one of the large windows -Morrison?-, was still trying to find evidence where there was none to be found, and detective Mathers had finally given in, going to the little kitchen to fill his coffee mug for the second time today.<p>

Wade really had watched the department for far too long. Should have here returned at all? Yes, if only to protect the child. He folded one leg over the other, taking the folded newspaper out from under his arm, flipping through it to look at the pictures and to see if there were any little interesting stories or fun facts. After passing half way, he knew there would only be advertisements and sports after that. He was about to go back through it when he found an ad for a car that took up the whole page. The ground under it was covered in snow, leaving a third of the page as a blank canvas. This would beat going back and drawing boobs and moustaches on everyone.

The kid a seat away from him, looked up from his phone as Wade's pen tapped against the paper, as he contemplated what to draw. He saw the cover, another story about that lighting thing that people had seen zipping around the streets of Central City. Rumours had been circling that it was a man but no one thought that such a thing was possible. Either way, whatever it was had finally been given a name. The Streak.

His eyes both shot to and stayed fixed to the man, not that Wade could blame him. He was wearing a pair of black jeans, his old navy boots, a red long-sleeved shirt with a black zipped down hoodie that hung open but the hood pulled over his face. His hands were covered by black leather gloves, a crimson and black keffiyeh was wrapped around his neck, and raised to cover his mouth and nose, and his eyes were also hidden by a pair of sunglasses with a bright red metal frame. He must have been a sight.

"Are you reporting a crime?" The younger man asked. "I can get you the forms. Everyone is a little busy."

Wade looked up. The kid looked to be eight-teen, with a head of thick soft brown hair, gelled up at the front to make an almost natural looking quiff. His skin was light, his long brown eyelashes framed light brown eyes, lips pink with a wide cupid's bow.

"Nah, don't worry about it," Wade waved a hand, fully aware of an officer hanging around longer than she needed to at a filing cabinet, watching to see what he would say. "I'm waiting for an old friend, he works here in the S.W.A.T unit."

"What's his name?"

"Slade Wilson," Wade blinked. He knew just what he wanted to draw. He smiled under the scarf, making an impression on the material. He set to work on his drawing.

"Oh, well. He has the morning off."

Wade nodded. "That would make sense, considering."

"Considering what?"

Wade decided not to listen, instead he continued his scribbles.

"What's your name?"

Wade raised his head again. This kid was very interesting, although he could have been likely very naïve or just plain stupid for continuing to talk to a guy who looked like he was hiding so he could shoot up the place. "Wade."

The kid smiled. "Peter."

"Do you have a last name?"

"Do you?"

Wade grinned. He leant forward, his covered mouth to Peter's ear. The kid did not worried about his close presence, he did not even flinch, which almost had Wade freezing in place. "Wilson. But don't tell anyone," he said moving back. "It's supposed to be a surprise."

"Parker," Peter whispered. "We can pretend it's a secret too."

"Whoo!" Wade clapped his hands together with short sharp flat slaps. "I like secrets!"

Peter laughed.

Oliver curled up further onto Slade's chest. Slade was barely awake, running his fingers through Oliver's blonde locks. Oliver kissed him underneath Slade's chin, before returning to relish in their shared heat under the white silk duvet.

* * *

><p>Five Months previous<p>

Oliver pulled back his arrow, letting it fly and cutting through Malcolm's hand, breaking though the bones leading up to his middle and index fingers. It would not kill him but he would never be able to fire an arrow again, and for an archer, it was what they lived for. Oliver moved forward as Malcolm fell to his knees, trying to hold off the bleeding by keeping pressure around the arrow.

Yao Fei and Shado turned to each other. It was not their place to say anything.

"You will leave," Oliver said, kneeling down. "And everyone will believe you are dead," he grabbed hold of Malcolm's wrist to get him to meet his eyes. As Malcolm stilled, shocked but willing to accept his help, Oliver grabbed hold of the top half of the arrow, snapping the arrow-head off.

Malcolm yelled out as it happened, the furious movements were agonising but he kept himself still, he knew what Oliver was doing was right, and it was not like he expected to be treated with care, the fact that Oliver was helping at all a shock.

Malcolm held his hand to his chest after Oliver pulled out the arrow.

"You will go and never come back," Oliver ordered.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

Oliver glared at him. "I promised I would not kill you and if I let you get arrested, the league of assassins would kill you or someone else will take you as some sort of weapon," He frowned. "I will not be responsible for your death but I will protect the city from you. Leave."

Malcolm blinked. After killing his father, Oliver was just going to let him leave? He really was one of a kind. Merlyn nodded. "I'll go."

"Before you do," Oliver cut in. "Who is your partner?"

Malcolm stood, panting from the shock of his blood loss but stood strong. "I never saw his face, spoke to him on the phone."

"Do you still have his number?"

The dark archer nodded. He slipped his fingers into his suit pocket, taking the white card by his fingertips and holding it out.

Oliver walked forward and took it, his eyes never left the older man's, his eyes cold, expression still but bubbling with rage underneath. He took the very end of the paper, glancing at the number on it, it was all that was on there. "Anything else?"

"He faked a German accent."

Oliver looked back up.

"It broke a few times," Malcolm explained. "But he was very calm. I think he wanted me to know he was faking."

Oliver nodded. "Anything else?"

Malcolm paused for a second before sighing. He shook his head. Oliver could have lied, he could just kill him anyway. He was proved wrong as the blonde turned away but before he could say anything, the young archer span back around. The pain in Malcolm's neck and the dizziness that came over him, told him he had been hit with some sort of sleep dart.

* * *

><p>"What are you thinking about?"<p>

Ollie blinked. "Sorry," he looked up to meet Slade's brown eyes.

"Something wrong?" Slade asked, before kissing his forehead.

Oliver leaned his chest into Slade's. "Just think about that night, when I killed Malcolm."

Slade hummed for his fiancé to continue.

"Did I do the right thing by letting Tommy and Thea think I killed him?"

Slade let out a breath through his nose, rubbing his hand up Ollie's arm.

"I know you wanted me to tell Thea."

Slade had been training Thea in self-defence and basic sword fighting -per her request- for as long as Oliver had been training Roy. He felt close with Thea, they shared a lot, which lead to the couple having an argument a few weeks ago about telling Thea her biological father was alive, after Thea had confided to the Aussie that she wondered what it would have been like to know Malcolm.

"Would it help them to know?"

"I don't know," Slade said. "I really don't but I do know that it's better for them to know sooner than later, and you haven't really spoken to Tommy since that night at the club."

Oliver ran his hand up the side of Slade's ribcage, his body so strong and large that he felt safe and cared for, both physically and emotionally. His eyes shut, just allowing himself to feel Slade there with him. "I miss him."

Wilson wrapped his arms around his partner. "Then tell them. It's not often, with the life we lead, that telling people the things we hide, is the right thing to do."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

* * *

><p><strong>I had a couple of people wondering about the different story lines and endings that never came to be. So, at the end of every chapter (if possible) I will be listening something that was deleted.<strong>

**1) In the first real ending of Beyond Description, Slade did blow up the device with a trick arrow (he lived), he told Lance that he had a bomb as a back up plan. When Lance gets back, he tells everyone this, Oliver laughs (as he gave Slade the arrow for good luck). "That was just to make you feel better, had Slade done that, he would have died." Thea breaks down and Oliver realises that Slade is dead. In a rage, he goes to Malcolm, who is in the office, medics trying to get an arrow out of his shoulder. Like Yao Fei did to him, Oliver pushes the arrow through so he had brake off the end and pull it out. "It's not the first time I've dealt with an archer" and that how people find out about the island. **


	3. Back Where You Belong

**Peter Park is based on Andrew Garfield portal.**

* * *

><p>"Did you study art?" Peter asked, trying to slyly peak at the newspaper.<p>

Wade tilted it away. "Nah, navy can be suuuuper boring. Gotta do something while Slade's working on his abs and pretending to be straight."

The two chat had chatted lightly for ten minutes, before Peter's phone was pushed back into his pocket, forgotten, and Wade wavered between Peter and his drawing, but he never stopped talking to him. Hell, even when Wade started one of his mad rants, Peter kept listening, and Wade kept going, enjoying having him listen.

The guy was probably just being polite but Wade had to give him credit, he had been told that his voice was insufferable, much worse than getting caught in a fight with him, which was saying something because Wade kicked arse!

Peter made a funny face but found himself laughing nonetheless. "So, what are you drawing?"

"Something..." Wade tapped his pen against his covered mouth, trying to think of the right word. "Pretty."

**For sure.**

_Can we have this tattooed on our chest?_

**Won't work with our skin, it will just heal. And wrist is better. We could see it anytime.**

_Our chest would show its full glory. It would feel better there~ __You know where it would feel best?_

**Around our dick?**

"That would hurt," Wade blinked, his blue eyes flickering back to Peter's warm brown when he realised he could hear him. Thinking about it, he had been stuck in his head for a while.

Peter was looking at him with question but it was not at all like the looks he normally got, the look that said he was a freak.

**Have you looked in a mirror?**

He had. He was terrifying. His skin was scary, his personality was scary, he was an insane, a killer, a monster. He would always be feared. It's who he is. What his life had made him, what they had made him.

"What's wrong?"

Wade shook his head, a bright smile hiding his shame. "Just in my own little world, baby boy."

Peter grinned. "Alright."

Wade cocked a non-existent eyebrow. "You're weird."

Peter's brows knitted together. "I'm weird? How do you figure that?"

"You're talking to me," Wade pointed to himself. "Have you seen me?"

"Kind of hard to miss."

Wade paused, waiting for Peter to go on but he didn't.

He raise a finger. "And that dear boy, is why you are weird."

Peter laughed.

Wade smiled. He liked that sound, manly yet soft, every little "ha" was like a silk glove stroking his broken yet -ironically- constant regenerating brain. Wade wanted to touch him, he missed human contact. When he met Slade again, he had no intention of letting go, but as of right now, he had to play it cool. He could do that. Wade Wilson was a bad-arse!

When there was no reply in his mind, Wade realised the voices had stopped, they were not even mumbling to each other.

Wade chuckled to himself, turning back to his drawing.

"What?" Peter was starting to feel like he was missing the joke.

Wade shook his head. "What does your uncle do anyway?"

Peter squinted his eyes at the strange man but let the matter go. "His name is Ben, and he's a cop."

"Is Mr Fried Rice here?" Wade asked, looking around but knowing the guy was working the streets this morning.

"Wh-" Peter laughed. "What?" His arm wrapped around his stomach to hold away a stitch as his laughter grew, his body folding over his legs.

Wade smiled. He loved that sound.

* * *

><p>Lance glanced up from his office as he heard the laugher. It was Peter, who at this moment was trying to push it down, although his shoulders still shuddered with his chuckles.<p>

One of his officers that informed him that the guy in the waiting room had said he was waiting for Slade. The way he was dressed was concerning, and so was the fact he was waiting for Slade. The Aussie had many enemies, they just did not know who he was. But his name was the most interesting part. She said his name was Wade.

Was he really Slade's supposedly dead cousin, his only family?

Either way, Lance decided to leave the guy be. Peter could not be in a safer place, and like Lance had taught his daughters, Officer Parker had shown Peter how to defend himself and use a gun, which the kid hated. He was far too innocent for that sort of thing.

Wade, if that was his name, was constantly talking about everything from when he was in the navy to a pet guinea pig he once had, followed by something called hatchet, a strange name for a pet. And when Peter amused him, he would giggle, which was far too unreal for a guy with a voice as deep as his, even more so when his clothing was stretched over his body, making him look like a body builder, and he was an easy six-foot tall, if not more. He was so unlike Slade it was untrue, but from what Lance knew about Wade, from the one other time Slade had spoken about him, he was an amazing fighter, moving like an acrobat with a pair of katana.

Even if Peter seemed to have taken a liking to the odd man, it could still be all a lie, and if he was someone from Slade's past, there was no telling the level of armed and dangerous he could be. Even the pen in his gloved hand could be cause for concern. Lance kept his eye on "Wade", and while he did not want to break up the honeymoon, it was something the Aussie should know about.

So, he sent Slade a text about a self-proclaimed old friend of his, as he had no idea how Wade had "died" and he did not want to risk getting Slade's hopes up if it was possible.

Seconds later, something clicked in his mind, something he could not believe he had not noticed before. That voice. It was the one who had spoken to him, the night of the undertaking. He knew in his gut that it was that voice. Without sparing a breath to think, he grabbed his phone, typing a second text.

* * *

><p>Slade passed through the double doors, Oliver in tow. He scanned the large room, his ears keen to hear anything out of the ordinary. A voice caught his attention.<p>

"How can you not like Chinese food?"

It reminded Slade of when he and Wade would order in. The only thing he would eat was pork ribs, as fish and pasta were not his thing.

"Just don't."

Slade froze in his step, dark eyes wide. His brain had short circuited, too afraid to move, speak, to even look, not wanting to jinx it.

"Which was a pain because Slade loves it. Take him someplace that does either prawns or muscles, and he will love you," Wade continued.

His eyes moved to the voice. The person before Peter was covered from head to toe but Slade knew the second he saw the way the man sat, with his leg folded over the other that it was the owner of the voice, that it was Wade.

Slade thought this moment would never happen, which is why he never thought of what to say if it did. Wade could not have survived and yet... His mind shut down, all thinking seemingly cut off, and he just said the first words that came to mind. "You'd sell your arse for a taco."

Wade looked over.

Blue met black. The room felt quite even when it was full of chatter, and everything seemed to slow, as if time itself was astonished by the events taking place. All that either man could think about was that the other was really alive, there before them.

Wade stood, pushing the papers down to his chair. "Could I sell you instead? I'll get a taco, maybe even two! And you can get some D."

Slade smiled. He walked over.

Wade ran over to him, as he got to his brother, he put his hands to Slade's shoulders and jumped, wrapping his long legs around Slade's waist. Slade gripped his hips, he did stumble a bit but he just heaved Wade up, leaning back so he could support his heavy body. Then the two were hugging, squeezing each other as close as they could get to the point of pain. The touch, the warmth, it was indescribable. Something so simply, that when they parted, they had distanced themselves from others because the pain was too great.

Being here, being together again, had Slade smiling like a fool.

"It's like Dirty Dancing!" Wade swung Slade left and right in a burst of cute aggression, which had him swinging in term.

"Baby should have stayed in the corner," Slade groaned.

"Are you calling me fat?!" Wade demanded.

Oliver, like everyone else in the department was watching the scene in confusion, expect for Peter and Lance- the latter was smiling too.

It was Wade.

"No, just damn heavy," Slade walked over to the closest desk, which in this case belonged to detective Hilton, flopping Wade down onto it. The desk was thankfully clear on one side, and the man himself had the night shift last night, so he was out of the station at the moment.

Wade allowed himself to fall back, head hanging over the desk. "Oh, dirty," he giggled.

Slade shook his head. "Pervert."

Wade huffed, throwing his body up with a swing of his arms, his legs dangling over the edge. "Youuuuu know it."

Slade turned to his partner. "Oliver," he held out a hand. "This is Wade. My brother."

Ollie turned to Wade, to his other half and back to the younger Wilson. "I thought you were..."

Wade jumped up from the desk, leaning down to sit his chin on Slade's shoulder. "Can't you see the family resemblance?" He grinned. "I got the height."

"And I got the sanity."

**Can't argue with that.**

_Don't even suggest such a thing!_

"And it was going so well," Wade said, pressing against the side of his head with his palm.

Slade turned to him. "Hm?"

"Nothing," Wade blinked. "So, you're Oliver," he sprinted over to the blonde, pulling him into a bear hug.

Oliver just stood there, his arms flailing at the sudden attack on his person space. "You're Wade?" The man was scatter-brained and over the top, but the thing that really stuck out was how he covered himself... Then when you took into consideration of how he almost died, in an explosion, he must have been scarred. How did he survive?

Wade pulled away. "That is I," he said triumphantly, his voice deepening to make him sound like a cheesy superhero from the seventies. Then he started giggling and jumping up and down with a heavy thump. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God."

"What is it?" Oliver asked, eyeing the man with wide eyes.

"Younger, tall, blonde, brown eyes," he turned to Slade. "You have a type."

Slade blinked, then he clocked on. He smirked. "It's disturbing that you would even suggest such a thing. Plus, Oliver has green eyes."

"Oh?" Wade got right into Oliver's face, the tips of their noses brushing. "They are. Hn," he moved back, "I look like I took on a microwave and lost, since you last saw me."

Slade felt a stab in his chest at the words but he did not have time to think about it, before Wade was grabbing his hand.

"I'm hungry. Wanna get food?"

At those words, Peter remembered the newspaper. He took hold of it, with plans to wave it at Wade when there was a break in the conversation.

Slade paused for a second, still a little stunned, but then nodded. "Alright."

Wade turned to Oliver. "Wanna come, Ollie?"

Oliver held up his hand. "You two catch up."

Wade nodded. It was then that he remembered Peter, and his drawing. He was about to go grab it when he saw the kid with the newspaper in his hands, a guilty expression creeping onto his face.

The very idea that Peter had seen it, sent shivers up his spine and made his insides itch from the flutter of butterflies swarming inside of his belly, their wings feather soft yet fiery.

Wade waved in his usual cheery way. "Bye Peter," But not waiting for a reply before he dragged Slade out by his hand, muttering about all the things he wanted to eat, which changed to cocktails, and then somehow to the Transformers films.

Lance stepped over to the scene. "So, that happened."

Peter frowned down at the paper. What was that about?

"Yeah, I did not expect that at all," Oliver said, running his hand through his newly shown dirty blonde hair. "But I'm really happy. I can't believe it."

Lance nodded. The officers around them were still muttering to themselves. By the morning, at the most, the news **would** make it to the media. "If you would just like to come to my office, there's something I've meant to ask you?" He asked, holding out an arm.

"Sure," Oliver nodded, heading over to said offered room.

Peter sat there for a moment, he found his eyes flickering to the paper. Before, he did not look because it was not his place and it was just plain rude but he was curious, and Wade already thought that he had seen it, so, he might as well really. He flipped through the paper, a small part of his brain telling him not to all the while. He was just about to shut the paper, mind already thinking of a way he could leave it for Slade and have people not look at it, when he saw the drawing.

The drawing was of excellent skill, of a man resting his chin on his closed first, his thumb tugging at his bottom lip. The defining lines and shadows made the face look real, like a person in black and white was there but stuck in a permanent moment.

The drawing was of Peter.

Peter stared down at it for a while, a flush of pink staining his cheeks when his mind relived when Wade called it, which in term mean that he was, pretty.

* * *

><p>"You should be aware that something like this might come up in your mother's trial," Lance pointed out, sitting down at his desk.<p>

"Hopefully it won't," Oliver sighed softly. "I'll have to see what Slade wants to do about that. I'll be speaking in court tomorrow," he added. He had been meaning to for a while but kept putting it off. There was no backing down now.

Lance blinked. "I never thought you would."

"Me too, but I should."

Lance nodded. It would do Moira well but Oliver would face a lot of questioning about why had he not sooner, why he and Thea had not gone home or visited their mother in the past five months, and the Island most of all. "I hear there is cause for celebration for Slade and yourself," Lance said, hoping to pick up the mood.

Oliver smiled, his white teeth on show. "It's official now," he said, slipping a hand under his shirt and pulling out a metal chain necklace, along with it, was his engagement ring.

Lance smiled back. "I'm happy to hear that."

"The future should be an interesting one," Oliver nodded.

There was a pause, which was slowly growing with awkwardness. The two of them did not really speak, not with how much they worked, and the last time they had really talked had been the day of the undertaking.

"Was there something you wanted to ask me or..."

"Yes," Lance sighed. "There was," He clicked a dull rhythm with his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he composed himself. "Slade and I spoke in the subway."

"He said."

Lance nodded. "Did he tell you that I said I knew what you did? At night?"

Oliver sucked in a breath but nodded. It had been one of the first things Slade told him, it was shocking and oddly comforting, that Lance, knowing he was the Arrow, was allowing his actions to continue. Oliver expected the man to mention it but he never did.

One night, after he was finishing up tying some gang members from a drugs ring, Lance, with his officers, stepped over to him. He ran, jumping up into a fire escape when he heard Lance call to him.

_"Who do you want us to know you as?"_

When Oliver turned, he saw Lance with his arms out wide.

_"Because the Hood isn't the nicest of names."_

The next week, Oliver left an arrowhead he had made on Lance's desk. He never expected Lance to declare to the world, that Oliver was a protector to Starling City, but he had. Even when the reporters asked about Roy, someone new and unknown, Lance stood by him, saying that if he was under Oliver, then he was there to do good, and if caused trouble, Ollie would stop him.

"I would like to thank you."

Oliver shook his head. "I think you've thanked me enough."

"I would also like to meet this little team of yours," Lance went on. "I gather that, Roy? I take it he is not the only one?"

Oliver blinked. Of course Lance had found out about Roy, when he knew for sure it was Oliver. He would not put it past the man to guess that Diggle and Felicity were in on it too. He shook his head.

"Will the others be there, the ones from the undertaking?"

The conversation was very vague, but Oliver knew perfectly who he meant.

Yao Fei was only forty-six but he was retired from the army, having served since he was a teenager. He still could and wanted to work, so Oliver hired him as part of Queen Consolidated, in the security department, along with Diggle. Shado however, was a trained lawyer and she had studied at med school. Which gave her the choice of studying further or going back into law. She stuck with law, deciding to give her services to CNRI, acting as an intern along with Thea, but at a full-time capacity.

"They should," Oliver said, but before he could go on, his phone started to ring. He glanced at it, seeing that it was Felicity's work number. "I should take this," he said, holding up the phone. "Why don't you come over to the club tonight?"

Lance frowned. The club? "Okay. I'll see you then."

Oliver gave a smile, before leaving the office.

"I'm heading over now. Lance will be-"

_"Heading over as in whenever or as in now?" _Felicity asked, sounding a little rushed.

"Why?" Oliver's brows went down. "What's wrong?"

_"You have someone here who wants to meet you and he's not taking no for an answer."_

"Who is it?"

_"He just bought out everyone's shares. He's the head of Stark Industries, an Anthony Edward Stark."_

_"Tony!"_ A voice in the background called out.

* * *

><p><strong>2) During their, Wade was suppose to walk into the police station while Slade was there, singing the chorus to Back in the Tall Grass by Future Islands, before jumping to sit in Slade's lap.<strong>


	4. Future's Desires

**Tony is based on Robert Downey Jr portal.**

**IMPORTANT: In the story before this, I said that Wade's eyes were brown, then the last chapter I said blue. They were meant to be brown, really sorry about that.**

* * *

><p>Wade lay in his hospital bed, his back propped up by pillows, stroking a bandage finger down a picture of Slade from his ASIS profile picture. He was pretty much covered in burns and shrapnel scars from head to toe, spare a few patches here and there. His body hair; head, eyelashes and all, were completely burned off, and tests had shown that none of it would grow back, but if it would, be uneven and sparse. He looked disgusting. He was riddled with an aching pain that never left totally, even with all the morphine. And Slade, his soul reason for everything he did since he was a child, his hero, was dead. And just when things could not get any worse, the doctors found something.<p>

There was a tap at the open door. "How are we feeling, Wilson?"

Wade very nearly smiled. As warm-hearted as ever. "I'm fine, agent," he said, not bothering to look up.

"You sound it," she said, her heels tapping against the stone floor as she made her way over. "I've spoken with ASIS. They understand that you won't be returning, considering the situation," she said, so nonchalantly and without a hint of awkwardness, that you would have thought they were talking about the weather. "They'll want to talk with you at some point but I can hold them off for a while longer."

"I appreciate that," Wade mumbled.

"Do you want to live?"

Wade laughed, but it was all for show. Normally Wade was good at that but this time he did not even try to sound happy. His laughter was loud and very clearly dark. "Bit of an issue there." He slipped the picture back into his shirt pocket, not wanting to look at Slade as he continued. "I have cancer, started in pancreas, which by itself should have killed me but it spread. It's termina-, or did you forget?"

She lifted her chin, looking down at him, but her expression was soft, her hands folded behind her back. "During the second world war, a man by the name of Steve Rogers took part in an experiment that made him unbelievably strong, fast and most importantly, impossible to kill, till he died, which took a lot."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Wade waved a hand at her. "I remember the story, which is just that, a story."

"It's real."

Wade looked up at that. "You're kidding, right?" The story of the man was real and people had reported about all the amazing things he could do, but being super human was a stretch. Then again, if he was government made, like the stories said, then it would make sense that there was a lot that could have been left out. But a real super soldier?

"The serum is real. Rogers was the only known case and the rest was destroyed. The man himself went missing in action but," she held up a hand, as if sensing Wade would cut in. "In the years he served in the army with his abilities, many copies of the serum were made using his blood. One of them worked. We're looking for it, and when we find it, we'll need people to try it."

Wade folded his arms. He still did not believe her. He was not sure what to think of the whole idea.

The agent looked him right in the eyes. "So, I'll ask again. Do you want to live?"

* * *

><p>Wade sat at the small dockyard, which was mostly empty due to the time of year. Regardless of the cold air, he had removed his boots and socks. Pulling up his jeans, he dipped his scarred calves and feet into the cold salty water. There was a slight sting but it soon faded. He looked down to his skin, red and blotchy, so very angry.<p>

After over two years of treatment for his cancer, half his remaining life span already spent, they had found the serum. Wade never did return to ASIS, only speaking to them through the agent. He knew how suspicious that was, but he did not care. As empty as his life was, even as he tried to binge on films, food, drink and travels, he was still so very empty but he wanted to live. To survive the pain and create a life for himself, somehow. He was not ready nor willing to die yet. The treatment could save him, heal his scars, make him strong again. So, he entered Project X, or The Weapon X Project as it was really known.

Governments had never been shy to weaponizing what their people made, and Wade expected no less from them; he would become a weapon for them, if it meant he got to live. He did not feel that he was without reason, if he were to crave death. Nor that he was cowardly for not ending his life, but something inside of him just wanted to live.

Wade took a breath as he heard the thumps of shoes on the wooden panels of the dock. He smiled a put-on smile, but when he saw Slade with a couple of take away bags in his hands, it grew into something more sincere.

Slade blinked when he saw Wade's legs in the water but said nothing about the scars, his eyes flashing with sadness. He frowned. "It's freezing out here."

"I find it bracing."

Slade held out one of the brown paper bags. "You would have to," he sat down next his brother, crossing his legs in front of himself.

Wade looked into the bag. Inside was a plastic container of salad and southern fried cold chicken, another had a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich, a yellow smoothie of unknown contents but he would guess melon, and a pot of strawberries. Slade knew him well.

"I still think we should have gone to Big Belly Burger..."

"Have you seen how much salt is in those things?"

"Don't care," Wade took out the salad and sandwich, stopping when he realised he would have to take off his scarf.

"Would you like me not to look?" Slade asked, rummaging through his own bag.

"It's fine," Wade said, voice shaper than he meant it. He raised a hand, which shook beyond his control when he got to his chin. He pushed past it, grabbing the sunglasses and tugging the scarf away on the way down. He tucked one of the arms of his glasses under his shirt, allowing the accessory to hang.

Out of the two of them, Wade was the more openly affectionate yet surprisingly rather shy, making up for it by being loud. So, his emotional states were pretty distinctive to anyone who knew him. Slade, on the other hand, was a very good actor and liar- he could make anyone believe anything with his words, while keeping a completely still expression, making it impossible to tell what he was really thinking.

Traits that Wade had seen Oliver use also, when he questioned him about being the Arrow. His eyes darted around too much and his ability to lie slow to start and got weaker the more Wade questioned him

So, when Slade looked over for a few seconds before shrugging and returning to his meal, Wade was not sure what to think.

"Did ASIS know you were alive?"

Wade snorted. "Not until a few weeks ago."

* * *

><p>Tony Stark's mind was the creation of two incredible people.<p>

His father, Howard, was an inventor, created absolutely amazing machines, and was able to build a multi million dollar company from nothing. The weapons business was where things really took off for him but it meant he could pool his money into inventions that changed the world. Tony's mother, Maria, was a doctor and microbiologist. The things she did saved lives. They was both geniuses, beyond their time.

For two such incredible people, to die in something so mundane as a car accident was insulting. If that had to live Tony's life when he was seventeen, why could they not have gone out in a blaze of glory? They deserved better. They were tied down with Tony, a child they never wanted. They never got to show their true potential, nothing that truly showed how amazing they both were. Tony had stolen that from them, until that night.

For the following year after their death, a friend of Tony's father's acted as his carer. He did not really care that much for Tony and Tony did not need a parent; he just had to follow the law if he wanted to stay in his family home. Howard had made an ironclad will, that the company and all the family's money was to go to Tony, and no one was allowed access, regardless of Tony's age upon the couple's death, unless Tony said so.

Anyway, for that year, Tony lived alone. He cared not for his education and although his sadness had him wanting to be alone, he craved company. He would hide down in his father's workshop but taking things apart and seeing how they worked was getting boring.

He spent his time watching TV and drinking anything alcoholic that could be found in the manor, and one night, while watching TV, he caught the start of an old episode of Knight Rider. The car. K.I.T.T. was an AI. A machine that could thing, speak, even had it's own personality from what it learned.

This lead to his studying. Tony had always dreamed of robots. When he was a kid, he used to draw pictures of himself as a robot, flying in the sky with Captain America, from that old TV show. And he had made robots in the past, first remote controlled, then with sensors. Creating a real AI became his sole reason for getting up in the morning, for not drinking.

He based the plans of his bot after seeing a service droid on a sci-fi comedy, called a Skutter. It had a large body, a neck-like arm, including a joint so that it could move around with ease, while its head was a hand with three fingers; two on the top, one on the bottom. Enough to grip and do basic tasks. Its head would have a tinted glass window at the front, with a camera hidden inside.

He tried and failed to bring it to life, really alive anyway. He could turn it on but that was about it for the longest time. But Tony liked talking to him (he was unsure as to when it became a him). He would tell him about his day, about his lectures in college, or for when he took over the company from a rather irritated "carer". Sometimes he would yell, demanding why the supposed AI would not work.

One night, exhausted from a meeting, the fourth one of the week seeing as he was the newly appointed owner after his eighteenth birthday just a few days ago, Tony set his bot to reboot again. He hoped that maybe, the changes he had worked on the entire night before would have an effect... Even when he had already tried before work.

Tony collapsed onto the old worn sofa, waiting with tired eyes. "Work," he ordered, "you dummy."

The bot came to life, his program loading. He looked at Tony, who was looking back at him. This was the tenth time Tony had set him to reboot. He could still not move or make a sound but he could hear and see. His creator seemed down. When Tony was talking to him, he would smile, he would sing to load music, and at night, or early morning, when he really slept, Tony would wheel him over to the sofa, so he could watch his creator as he slept.

The bot quickly realised that the fact that he could not move was what had Tony upset. His objective became to make his creator happy. He never questioned the thought process of how or why. Truth be told, the bot was not smart enough to think about such a thing, which when Tony discovered it, would amaze him for years. That his AI could feel happy, disappointed, even worried, and how he experienced those emotions- was it possible that an AI could really feel emotions?- from human contact. How the bot would knock things over when Tony insulted him, or hide Tony's tools when he ignored the machine.

The bot requested his systems to move but with no avail. So, he waited, asking over and over, until Tony would tinker with him once more. But this time, he got a reply. He was able to expel air from his internal valves. Seeing as it was all he could do, the bot did so, as hard as he could. This resulted in a sort of chirp, like a strange mechanical bird. He watched as Tony's eyes flew wide, as he flung himself off the sofa, sliding onto his knees in front of the bot.

So, he chirped again, and again, watching as Tony smiled, eyes wet for reasons the bot were not sure. Did he have a leak? Could he help his creator?

The bot drew out his call, trying to impersonate the way Tony would hum when he did not understand.

Tony threw his arms around the bot, allowing his tears to fall.

The bot sang as it remembered how Tony would pet him, while promising that he would fix him. Maybe petting would stop the leak.

The bot kept checking his system, when he was given the ability to move his pistons. He lower his head, shifting it up and down his creator's back in the same one second back and forth movements he had experienced.

* * *

><p>Oliver made his way to the elevator that lead to his office, a place that held a significant about of nostalgia as it used to belong to his father. As a kid, he had loved it there, and not just because his dad allowed him to have fizzy drinks and fast food. He missed the days when his father brought him a radio or something to take apart, while watching the city from high up the glass tower. It was a simpler time.<p>

Felicity was there waiting for him and upon seeing the billionaire enter, she called the elevator and hopped inside, holding the door open for her boss.

"Did you ever hear the story of Tony Stark?"

Oliver frowned. "I thought you didn't know who he was?"

"I may have forgot that Tony was a nickname for Anthony- But! That was only because he does not come out in public often," she hummed. "He's a lot like you really."

"How so?"

"Took over his parent's company. They made weapons for the military, and he was a serious playboy till he went missing in Afghanistan. He was held captive for a few months and no one really knows what happened to him or how he got away, but he was a changed man when he came back," she said, typing up some information on the man they were speaking about. She brought up pictures of his most well known weaponry. "When he got back, he found out his weaponry was being sold to the black market. After learning this, Stark Industries stopped making and selling weaponry altogether."

Oliver blinked. That was an interesting story. It did sound like this Tony guy might have had the same kind of experience as Oliver. Thrown into having to live a life he should not have survived. There was no way he would just be let go, so, how did he get away? Did he kill anyone? Was he saved? What did he want with Queen Consolidated? That was the issue at this moment.

"He now purely makes some real high tech stuff. He was the first and only person to ever make an AI and he even created the Arc Reactor, which can produce entirely clean energy," She smiled, her tone rising in pitch. "I'm a big fan of his work."

Oliver held up his hands, brain frazzled by Felicity's words and all the information coming at it at once. "What was that first thing?"

"An AI? It stands for artificial intelligence. He made a machine that could understand him, that could think for itself."

"Wow," That was really impressive, it all was. "So, does he sell them?"

Felicity shook her head. "The AI was faulty, according to him anyway, but it was a first attempt. He never let anyone see the plans and very few have seen the machine itself. It's been over thirty years since then, so I doubt he will be changing his mind anytime soon."

"Wait. How old is he?"

"Forty-two. He made it thirty-four years ago."

Oliver did the math in his head, then his eyes shot back to the blonde. "He was eighteen?"

Felicity nodded. "He graduated MIT that year and he has multiple PhDs in physics, mechanical engineering and electrical engineering. And nearly every weapon and machine from the company was planned and made by him personally. He's a legend."

"What does he want with me?"

There was a ping as the doors opened.

In the middle of Oliver's office, stood a man. He was on the short side, about five foot eight, in a grey and white striped suit with a deep blue dress shirt and a grey tie. His hair was black but it had been bleached by the sun, making his hair appear brown past the black roots, with blonde tips. His eyes were brown, hidden by silver framed sunglasses with yellowish brown glass. And most noticeably, he had rather strange facial hair. He had a moustache and a goatee, which lead to a triangular beard that came back up to but was not attached to, the moustache. He stood there with such confidence, giving Oliver a funny look like he was the one in a zebra suit with a tribal looking beard.

"Oliver Queen," Tony smiled. "It's a pleasure," he waved before turning around.

Oliver stepped into his office. He watched as the man threw his arms out, the room filling with ghost like images of documents and rating in stock.

"They're holograms, by the way," Tony explained, swiping the screens around in the air, without even touching them, like he was conducting an orchestra. "Yes, I did buy out fifty percent of the company's shares," he said, pulling a digital record. "Here's ten percent back," he flung the document Oliver's way. "That way you still have the most shares but I want to make some changes- Felicity, could you get me a coffee, please? That would be great. I would like to have Queen Consolidated run on clean energy, which will save a lot of money. The only cost is installing it but I can take care of that. I need an office of my own. And, most importantly, I will need to clear the air about a few things," He closed hologram with a clap of his hands, before turning back around.

Oliver and Felicity looked on in shock and amazement, their mouths down to the floor.

* * *

><p>Wade awoke with a gasp. His lungs felt like they had been deflated, and his throat burned.<p>

The serum caused a lot of pain, sharp and excruciating. He had screamed -hopefully it was a manly scream-, arms and legs held down by belts to stop his thrashing. His body jerked like he was having a seizure, too fast for his melting brain to keep up. It felt like his veins were tearing open, his internal organs bursting from an unknown pressure.

His muscles did spasm as he came down from his tortuous high. His head felt heavy, his vision quadrupled and fuzzy. Then he slipped away, no longer having the energy to question the feeling of blood running from his eyes, down his cheeks.

"You survived," The woman said, sitting on a chair next to the metal bed Wade was strapped to, seeming bored and completely unaffected by what she had seen.

Wade had been dead for twenty minutes. They tried to bring him back, with no luck. So, they called it.

Then, five minutes ago, while the agent sat there, telling the corpse how useful he could have been, his hands started to clench, fisting the sheets, which had the woman almost jumping from her seat.

"Loving as always," Wade grumbled, his voice coming out rough and breathless.

"Congratulations," she stood. "You're alive."

"I'm alive," Wade grinned. "I'm alive."

He laughed, not caring about the pain. He was going to live. He...

"The fuck?" Wade's brown eyes drilled into the patch of distorted skin in the bend of his arm. There had not been a scar there before. "It's growing..." his voice was quiet, then he yelled. "It's growing!"

Before he knew it, men in all black were flooding the room, attempting to hold him still as he screamed. His heart was hammering in his chest, his breath being ripping from him.

The scars were everywhere, red and angry. He could swear he could see them moving!

"This is Waller. We need medical, now!" The agent demanded in to her walkie talkie.

* * *

><p><strong>3) Up until I wrote it, instead of Slade meeting Lyla and the rest as Deathstroke, he, Yao Fei, Shado, Roy, Oliver AND Thea, would arrive, all dressed as Deathstroke, at the police station. The scene would then follow the same, with only Pike Lyla and Lance knowing the truth.<strong>


	5. Past Cursed

"Why?"

Tony frowned at Oliver's question. "Why what?"

Felicity held up a finger. "Coffee. Right," then she left.

"Why do you want to be part of this company? Have you worked here before?"

"Nope. Let's just say for the time being that I'm doing a favour for a friend, so I'm stuck here, and I need space to work. Plus, I need advice."

"Advice on what?"

"Let's cut the crap." Tony took out a metal bar from his pocket, flipping his finger up to reveal a hologrammatic screen. A phone? He placed it on Oliver's desk. "Play," he ordered.

_"Detective."_

Oliver felt his breath caught. It was his voice modified to a lower tone, as the Arrow.

"Fix it, Jarvis."

_"Detective,"_ The voice came back higher and most clearly Oliver's.

"Your point?"

Tony raised a brow, as if Oliver was acting deliberately obtuse. "Queen, I created the ghost phone. And, like with everything I make, I put a back door, just for me."

"And what do you want?"

Tony paused, releasing a breath. "On the island. You had to change to survive. You had to get used to where you were and how things worked, and most of all, you had to keep fighting," he snorted. "Stop your mind from screaming that you are going to die and keep moving. Am I right?"

Exactly. "Is that how you felt in Afghanistan?"

Tony smirked, his shoulders shaking. "Yes," he swallowed. "People died to protect me, and then I almost did," he held a hand over his heart. "Shrapnel. I should have died. It would have been better for everyone if I had. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to die, but the men who took me wanted me to create my newest and last weapon. Something that had the possibility to kill thousands in one shot."

"Did you?"

Tony shook his head. His jaw clenched. "But, they did punish me for saying no, and my life was not the only one at risk. It would have only been a matter of time till I agreed."

Oliver's features softened.

"So, with the help of the doctor who had been imprisoned with me, we created a way to escape- but he was killed."

Oliver's shoulders slumped with an exhale of breath. He knew how it felt, the guilt, the need to make the loss worth something. His father's death meant that he could never kill himself, not when his father had died for him. He had to fix things, avenge him.

Did he do that by stopping the undertaking? Was not telling Tommy and Thea that Malcolm was alive a way to protect them, or did he do it because he felt like he needed to be punished for not ending the man's life?

"The whole event gave me an idea, to recreate the two things I used to escape, and what they made was...amazing." He shook his head, a smile across his lips. "I could do incredible things with it. Save lives, like the Arrow."

"Wait. Are you saying you want to become a vigilante?"

"I'm saying that a lot of innocent people died because of the things I made, and although I can't right any of that, I can save others," Tony said, his voice taking a low pitch, growing more agitated than irritated.

"Just because you made a weapon, does not mean you should be the one to control it. You don't know the first thing about fighting in the real world. You won't survive a day and you'll just end up getting people killed," Oliver made his way over to Tony, getting right into his face. "Then you will need to be saved and people will die."

"That's why, and as much as I hate to admit this, I need your help." Tony opened up his suit jacket, followed by his shirt. Then he pulled down the thick vest he had on underneath. There was a circular device imbedded in his chest, over his heart. It was shining a blue, almost white light, near blinding like the moon. The light was only broken up by the metal latches holding whatever was creating the light in place, creating a striped effect between the dark of the metal and light of the strange machine.

"It's basically a mini Arc Reactor; the machine I created to make clean energy. It stops the remaining shrapnel from killing me and it powers my suit."

Oliver stared down at the device. It was beyond belief. Then, Tony's words caught up to him. "Your suit?"

"That's what I want to show you."

Ollie took a step back. "And what would you do if I said no? Go on anyway?"

"Pretty much," Tony shrugged, already fixing himself up.

"Great, because I don't have enough to take up my life as it is."

Tony had the rest of the company's shares; he would need the man if he wanted to keep things afloat, and training in exchange for help running his company would be useful. He had learned from the island and then with Diggle and Roy, that training with people- and fighting with them most of all- built a close trust like that of family. Tony could be just what he needed. Maybe. Ollie needed time to think things over.

"Is it nearby?"

"Yes. Half an hour tops."

Oliver shook his head. "Another time." This was all too soon and he had only just met the guy. "First things first. You're part of the company now."

Stark smirked. "Yeah, I hate work too. But I have just the thing," he glanced at the futuristic phone sat on the desk. "Jarvis."

_"What can I do for you sir?"_

Oliver eyed the item. Who was Jarvis?

"I would like to introduce you to Oliver Queen. Oliver, this is Jarvis."

_"A pleasure Mr Queen. My name stands for Just A Rather Very Intelligent System."_

"Show off."

_"You named me, sir."_

"Don't you start, you primadonna."

_"Perish the thought, sir, but may I point out that my characteristics are depicted by the social influences I observe and experience. Therefore-"_

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don't get bitchy."

Oliver stared at the white circle on the blue semi-see-through screen. It was most likely Jarvis, even if he (it?) gave no indication that he was the one talking, no movement of the icon, nor a timestamp to say he was calling. His voice did seemed concentrated in that area but very clear, like he was in the room. He sounded a little stiff, as it was robotically made, and he had what sounded like a British accent and spoke very formally. He seemed prim and proper but as both a machine and Tony Stark's creation, Oliver had a feeling that Jarvis was not the type to get easily embarrassed or offended. If he could feel, anyway.

"Is Jarvis an AI?"

"Yes, and the only one of his kind, thank God."

"You made one when you were eighteen as well."

"Technically I started working on it when I was seventeen."

"You hid it and never told the world you made another."

"I did."

"Then why show me?" Oliver folded his arms.

Tony folded his own. "Well. Hopefully, you will help me, and I did find out your secret. Seems only fair."

"And that thing in your chest, what happened to you in Afghanistan. Is this all in exchange of knowing what happened on the island?"

"Yes, not that I really know. You lied about being an archer and about the fact that you have killed. Well, got your boyfriend to do it but still the same thing."

Oliver squinted at the older man. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"You'll just have to take my word for it, I guess."

Then it clicked. Oliver's lashes flickered in thought. "You want me to trust you. That's why you told me about them. You could have just hid the AIs from me but you told me."

Tony smiled. "Did it work?"

"That'll take time but I'm willing to think about it."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you have trust issues?"

"You have not earned it but I haven't either. But there is something I would like to know."

"Go for it."

"Why didn't you tell anyone? Why not make more and sell them?" Oliver prodded, hoping for a break in the cool calm façade. To see the real Tony Stark.

For the first time since they locked eyes, Tony looked way, his smile falling. "Everything I make becomes a weapon, but my first AI means a lot to me," his gaze returned to Oliver. "And I was not allowing them to turn him into a bomb on wheels. So, I told them he was broken...which he is, but he keeps things entertaining. Later on, I made Butterfingers and You. The three of them help me work and Jarvis is my assistant. I never told anyone because I could not risk them falling into the wrong hands."

Tony was not protecting people. He was protecting his machines. It was...weird, but Oliver did not comment. Even at the fact that they all had personalised names and genders. They did not need those labels, Oliver was sure, but Tony had just opened up to him, and he could not throw that back in the man's face. He did wonder; Tony said he had never told anyone but Ollie had a feeling that someone had to have found out. Protective or not, no one could keep secrets like these for half of his life. Unless he was a crazy cat lady with robots.

"Thank you for telling me," Oliver said honestly.

"It's fine. Jarvis," Tony quickly dived away from the topic. "What do you recommend for the company?"

_"The stock market will improve over time, with use of clean energy and improving relationships with our companies under your control. The strongest market aside from the US appears to be Russia and China, both of which have languages Mr Queen has been reported to speak."_

Oliver nodded but then spoke as Jarvis would not be able to see him. "Thank you, Jarvis," He was half expected the AI to mention the two big things that had caused stocks to drop, his family being part the undertaking, and the fact that the new CEO was gay. The next week would definitely have the stocks take a dive. Maybe he should put off announcing his engagement to Slade for a while.

Ollie's hand went up to the ring hidden under his shirt, his fingers fumbling with it. He felt even more anxious than before.

"Sounds good. Jarvis, talk Oliver through your statistics and anything he wants to know. I'm gonna go see about that coffee, because I have a feeling it's not going to come any time soon."

"You might be right."

_"Mr Queen?"_ Jarvis spoke up once Tony had left, already starting to pull up his estimations. _"I would just like to say that announcing an engagement might have an affect on the stock but not by very much. The public have had time to get used to your sexuality, and while some may disagree with marriage, it will make the company seem more customer friendly."_

Oliver eyed the AI. "How did you know?"

_"I can see you, in a manner of speaking. I use echolocation and global mapping to see. I also have the use of ultrasound and higher levels of radioactive waves. The amounts are not dangerous but it allows me to check sir for injury in a fraction of a second. I picked up on your ring. By the way your heart beat increased, I was able to deduce your worry."_

"Oh. I see," Oliver was still confused if he was honest, trying to wrap his head around such an idea.

_"Unless sir specifically asks about your marital status or withholding the information poses a threat to his well being, I am under no obligation to tell him."_

"Are you serious?" Oliver's brows lowered, creating heavy creases.

_"Of course."_

Oliver found himself smiling. "Thank you."

* * *

><p>Tony Stark stood on his white stone balcony, facing out to the sea, in the large bungalow he had built on the outskirts of New York.<p>

The sky was clear, and a cool spring breeze felt pleasant when mixed with the scotch in his hand. His body was kept warm by the drink, his boxers and his open deep red robe the only things covering his skin.

A gloved hand went past his vision, as the arm wrapped around his neck, causing him to drop the glass. The shattering was all that could be heard this far out, the waves down the cliff his home was perched on, too far down to be heard. He was too shocked to speak but then his fear kicked in. He grabbed at the arm, trying his best to cry out but with no avail.

"Calm down," A male voice growled in his ear. His other arm wrapped around Tony, so he could drag the man inside before dropping him onto the stone floor.

Tony pushed himself up, looking to his attacker. Two thousand and ten was already a bad year for the billionaire. His weapons development were at a standstill due to health and safety concerns in the production department, he was being demanded a meeting with the board a handful of times every week, and his AI, Dummy, was insisting to make him milkshakes every morning. Which would not have been an issue, but there was no way to be sure what the bot had put in it without asking Jarvis. His edible and non-edible list seemed to vary, and Tony hated hearing that whine as he turned him down. Dummy slumping and rolling out the room.

And now someone was here to kidnap him. Great.

"You're too smart for your own good," The man told him. He was very tall and wore all black, including a balaclava.

So I've heard. "What do you want?" Tony scrambled to stand, as he was wary about keeping his back to the man.

"I've been sent here to kill you," The man shrugged. "You made a deal with the wrong people."

Tony froze, his heart thrashing against his rib rage.

The man held up his hands. "Chill out, dude. I'm not going to kill you."

Tony gulped, forcing down the fear, even as his legs threatened to give out on him. "What do you want?"

The man stepped forward. This lead to Tony moving back, standing on his robe and falling down, none too gracefully. Never the less, the man crouched down, resting his elbows causally on his tights.

"Tony Stark. My name is Wade, and I would like you to fake my death."


	6. Family Troubles

**Don't know how popular Nokia phones are (or were) in America but in 2001, I know for a fact that Oliver's phone would have been the best thing going for me.**

**GUEST STARRING: Mallen. Mallen is also Fyers' baby from my story Little One. His first name is taken from ****Marvel Earth-616.**

* * *

><p>"Ollie?"<p>

Oliver's head shot up. He smiled when he saw Laurel and Tommy standing at his open office door, still dressed up from work. He should have heard them coming; Laurel was wearing heels. He should have heard the door open at least...the music.

Oliver sighed, glancing through the glass walls to where Tony sat at his newly acquired desk, ACDC blasting through a set of speakers in the corners of the room behind him. From where the blonde was, the music was muffled but still there.

Ollie had to admit, he kind of liked it. When he was not knee deep in work, when everything was quiet, his mind wandered. It had him thinking about all those he had killed. He had no regrets but he still hated it and it still got to him. He constantly found himself questioning whether what he did was right, whether dragging so many people into this life, worst of all Diggle and Roy, was right. Whether his father could have been saved. He did not like the quiet.

Tommy looked worn out, and seeing as he had to take over a dying company, it was unsurprising. He was selling all he could, including his family home, a place he no longer felt love or safety in. He brought his mother's clinic back to life. It was ground zero for hate, protesters yelling chants of rage at a place that was made to only do good.

Oliver shut his laptop. "Lunch. Right. Sorry, long day." He rubbed at his closed eyes, sore from all the reading of documents that still made no sense. Jarvis explained a lot to him but he was still unsure about the AI. He could not explain its existence to Slade, who would have looked at him like he was insane. Felicity would understand but she was very bad when it came to not letting on she knew something, and she would be seeing a lot of Stark. Telling anyone would be a total break of the trust Tony had bestowed onto him. But his team (which did not include Tommy or Lance) knew all about what Tony knew about him, and that the man himself wanted his training. What would happen next was for Oliver to decide.

"Who's that?" Tommy asked, pointing a finger at Tony.

Oliver took a breath. "Tony Stark. My new business partner. He brought everyone out and then gave me ten per cent so I could run things."

"That's weird..." Tommy looked over to the man.

Ollie would have to talk to him about that later. "Oh, and Slade's cousin. Wade came back from the dead." He was still in shock about that and it had been twenty-four hours since the man's return.

Last night, Wade had come over for dinner. He stayed hidden, only eating when no one was looking, which was okay, seeing as Oliver had suggested they eat while watching TV.

Thea had liked him, and even if she was a little put off by his childishness, she had to admit that the man was entertaining.

"Dad told me," Laurel said- her eyes flickered to Tommy when she realised the word she had used, but credit where it was due, she jumped back into conversation. "I heard he and Slade are very close."

Things were a little awkward between Tommy and Laurel since they broke up, just three days after the undertaking. Tommy was mentally and physically drained from trying to rebuild things after what his father did, and that, mixed with his guilt of having to hide Oliver's secret, and Slade being part of ASIS, and Roy joining him, and all the people who knew about it, including her father...it was all too much and she did not deserve that.

Oliver nodded. "They are," he leant down to open his desk drawer to grab his wallet, running his fingers down the hardness on his leg causally, just to be sure the strap around his calf still contained the four rows of inch long carbon fibre poles. Which, when snapped outwards sharply with a flick of the wrist, would extend to create a headless arrow.

Along with his wallet, he took out another item. It was a metal bar, about six inches long and had the width and thickness that reminded him of his first phone, a Nokia 3310. It had groves for his grip, and with the right sequence of hidden buttons, the whole thing would spring open, creating a customised oneida kestrel compound bow. He stood, sliding his wallet into his back pocket, so that he could hide as he clicked the bow into his belt attachment at the back, which would be hidden by his suit jacket. They were rather neat gifts that Tony had fashioned for him.

"All set," Oliver smiled, patting one of his front pockets. Unknown to his friends, on the inside was another, added pocket, where his arrow heads lay. He had to admit, he was looking forward to playing with his new toys.

"Shado and Thea will be here soon," Laurel said. "I was meeting a client today, so the two of them called Yao Fei to drop them off."

"Did she tell you that I'm going to court?" Ollie asked, moving around his desk.

"Yeah. That you'll be speaking for the both of you?"

"Yes," Oliver said with a flat tone.

"You'll be fine," Tommy said as he slapped a hand on the blonde's back.

"I hope so."

* * *

><p>The threesome took a table at a little diner, ordering a round of hot drinks while they waited for the rest of their group. The moment Laurel went to the bathroom, Tommy turned to his friend.<p>

"I saw Lance at the club. Diggle escorted him to the back. You showed him the Arrow-cave?"

"Not calling it that."

"I was starting to think that he was denying everything, till he disbanded the task force after you and publicly declared you were allowed to carry on."

Oliver nodded. He had shared the exact same thoughts. "I'm glad he's on our side."

Tommy laughed.

Oliver wished he could tell his best friend about the engagement but that would either leave him with another thing to hide from Laurel -And Oliver was sick of doing that to him- or he could tell the both of them and that would be very uncomfortable. He really wished he could just say 'fuck it' and yell his future plans from a rooftop, but he really should not.

"But, yeah. He's part of the team, now. We're glad to have him." The fingers of his right hand shifted up and down in small waves, clutching invisible arrows from under the table. A sign that he was nervous about what he had to say next, along with the way his vision flickered back and forth. "I spoke with him about telling Laurel," The rhythm of his fingers built. "He doesn't think telling her would be a good idea. What I do can be difficult to understand."

"I very nearly left when I found out," Tommy said. "I almost went to join Malcolm, at the company."

That hurt but Ollie understood. "I wouldn't blame you. I'm a lot different from what I used to be, but I did kill more than what was necessary. Slade and I made a pact not to kill since that night. I don't know how long that will last but it's something."

Tommy frowned, crossing his arms. "Well, aren't you positive."

Oliver's shoulders shook with a single exhale of breath, a smile tugging at his lips. "It was adapt or die, but going back, not being constantly on guard, not doing what comes natural, is so much harder," he met Tommy's eyes. "You and Thea have only scraped the surface of what I really am."

"What?"

"Trust me. You wouldn't look at me the same way-"

"I understand," Tommy cut him off. "Well, I don't really but I do. You fixed this city, saved people."

Oliver felt a warmth in his chest, a smile pulling at his lips. Yao Fei, Shado, Slade, they were all part of this life. But hearing Tommy say that what he did, was still doing, was right, felt like such a relief. As did hearing it from Thea and Lance. But there was one thing he did regret.

"Did I do the right thing that day? When I killed-" He stopped as he spotted Laurel exiting the restroom.

Tommy sighed, looking down at his coffee. "I wish you hadn't and I'm kinda glad you did," he shook his head. "I just don't know."

Ollie's eyes went back to Laurel. She must have sensed the tension, so she went over to the counter to grab some menus, along with getting cutlery and generally wasting time.

Letting Malcolm live. Yet another secret he had to keep but Slade was right, it would have to come out.

"Doing what I do. It eats away at me, and I don't mean guilt. Doing what I do, takes away a little part of me, of Oliver." He looked down to his coffee, holding it between his hands and slowly spinning it in his grip. "I fear that the things that ground me- you, Thea, Slade- I fear that one day I might have to give those things up, and that, when I do, or worse, even if I don't...The Arrow will be the only part of me left."

Tommy looked at his friend in shock. He sounded so dark, his eyes dull. "You don't have to do this."

Ollie shook his head. "I do. I need to, I want to. It's what I'm good at," he frowned when he remembered something Fyers once said to him. It was the only thing that man ever said that had Oliver questioning his hatred. "We tear ourselves open and raw, allowing our minds and bodies to become weapons, and every time we do, we ruin ourselves. We learn two things, by the time we notice it's far too late and, ironically, we do it to save others from ever having to suffer." he smiled. "But then there's Slade, someone who has done so much worse for so much longer, and is somehow still good. But if you saw him like I've seen him, you wouldn't want to be near him, have him near Thea."

Oliver had seen the man covered in blood, both animal and human, seen that darkness in his eyes, the total inability to care for a human life, to torture, to keep hitting, stabbing, shooting, long after they were dead. Slade had in turn seen the same in him. Being who they were, what they had seen and done, it created an evil that could only be understood by someone who had suffered the same.

"But you let him," Tommy's face had not changed, as if Oliver was over-exaggerating. "Why do you think you need to do this?"

Oliver blinked, giving it some thought, before saying; "It's my city, I have to fix it."

"Because?"

Oliver lifted his eyes. "I want to protect the people."

"That's Oliver," Tommy pointed out.

Ollie blinked.

"I don't know about the things you do but I do know that you are still a good person, that you have your reasons and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you didn't. And Ollie, you always have and always will be my brother," Tommy smirked softly. "My little brother."

Oliver was still, his body stiff like a board. His eyes were open wide. He pushed the emotions aside, his body relaxing with a breath. "By like three months!"

Tommy poked him in the chest. "Still younger," he sang.

Oliver shoved the brunette's shoulder. He smiled as his best friend laughed.

Laurel smiled at the way the two men seemed almost playful; it was a sight she had long since missed. She stepped over, with perfect timing too, as Shado and Thea were walking into the diner. The latter of the two looked a little off, Laurel noticed.

Thea had her jumper sleeves pulled over her hands and was fumbling with the cuffs. Her hair was up in a ponytail and was somewhat messy, like she did not have time to straighten it this morning. The clothes she was wearing were loose fitting, minus the army boots. The same items of clothing she wore when she was taking self-defence lessons with Slade.

Oliver turned. "Thea," he stood. "What's wrong?"

Shado lead her to the table, Laurel taking her other side, with a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I, um..." Thea let out her breath, her brows furrowed, eyes to the table. "I think Slade hates me."

Oliver opened his mouth, then closed it. "Slade loves you."

"If he and Ollie ever broke up, the guy would want some sort of custody agreement for you," Tommy added.

Thea did not laugh. Her lips were pressed together, her eyes squeezed shut as she shook her head from side to side. "I messed up."

* * *

><p>Slade struck hard and fast at the punching bag. He was wearing his uniform bottoms and a black vest, his newly acquired tattoo on show.<p>

Lance came just in time to see the Aussie bracing the heavy bag with his arm, punching it with his other hand like he was hitting it in the gut.

The night before, Slade had greeted him at the club, leading him to the metal door he had investigated months before. The jerking at Slade's lips told the Captain that the other man knew about the incident.

The basement was lit up by bright blue lights and was decked out with computers and multiple pieces of training equipment. There were also two glass cases. Inside each were a mannequin, bare, but beside them was a bow and a rack of arrows, one of green, the other red. However, there was one more case. This one had two quivers stocked with arrows and two bows. One looked to be a simple wooden longbow, the other a white metal fancy one.

Stood before Lance was John Diggle, Oliver's bodyguard, Felicity Smoak, an IT expert who also worked for the billionaire, and Roy Harper. The fact that he was there alone confirmed him to be Arsenal, plus he was wearing the suit, which would not help his case. Sitting in a computer chair next to them was Thea, her legs hung over the arm, a glass bottle cradled between her hands, which she quickly hid with her small pale fingers. There had been a half drunk bottle on the desk behind her, and a chair pulled up next to her. This said that she had a drinking buddy, which later turned out to be Slade.

Oliver seemingly appeared from the shadows, dressed in the outfit that Lance had chased since Oliver's return, fully knowing that it had to be him. His hood was pulled back, a small smile pulling softly at his lips. Beside him were Yao Fei and Shado.

Lance knew in that moment who Oliver's partners had been in the undertaking. He should have known better really. Slade was not an archer, which only left two other possibilities of who could have taught Queen. Plus, the three of them seemed to have a rather close bond- they would not have fit themselves into Oliver's life had they not.

Quentin turned to Detective Mathers, hoping the man could shed some light on why Slade was training.

Dante Mathers was in his early forties. He had black hair and oak brown eyes. His skin was tanned, his eyes rounded, as his family were originally from the Philippines. He was the same Detective on whom Oliver had presented his fighting skills, the day of the undertaking, to the Starling city police department. The man had become a friend to Slade and often trained with the Aussie. He no longer asked the other man to not go easy on him, after being thrown on the floor more times than he could count, in an embarrassingly short about of time.

Next to him was his partner, Mallen Fyers. Mallen had only just hit thirty. His hair was brown, his eyes a bright lime green. Slade had smiled when they first met, saying that he once knew a man by the same family name. Alarm bells went off in all the minds of those nearby, when Slade's reply to who Fyers had been was declared classified.

For supposed officers of the law, they were all total gossips. To be fair to them, aside from the huge stuff, information did not leave the building that often, and it was more their wives and husbands who were the real problem.

Mathers turned to Lance and shrugged. He walked over to Slade, closer than he should have.

"What-" he started. He had planned to say 'What has that bag ever done to you?' but he was winded when Slade span around, shoving him to the ground with one hand, while the other grabbed the gun from his belt and jammed in under his chin, the safety being pulled back in the process.

Lance frowned. It was all done with such ease, complete natural habit, which in itself was worrying. It was too easy, like Slade was in some sort zone. His theory was confirmed when, upon realising what he had done, Slade blinked, immediately retracing, returning his gun. His eyes were half-lidded, eyes jet black and sharp, predatory, conditioned to fight and kill.

Fyers bowed to view his partner, cocking his head to the side. "Again on the floor?"

"Shut. Up."

Slade apologised, but he seemed different. His frame was frigid and he did not attempt to smile or make some sort of comment. He was no where near his usual relaxed self. Aside from the fact he was not visibly angry, it was a lot like that day the ASIS agent and Captain -Detective back then- had first met, or more accurately when Lance and Laurel had questioned Thea about Slade.

Slade had arrived, barging into Lance's shoulder with his own, a dark look in his eyes. He had a look like, given half a chance, he would punch him, but more deadly. But Slade was different now. He was calm and focused. It made his intentions seem much darker.

Mathers grunted and grumbled as he moved to stand. "Was that a lesson not to sneak up on you?" he asked, rubbing as his ribs. Padded floor or not, that hurt.

"Force of habit but I would accept the lesson."

"Your lessons hurt," Mathers commented but there was no hint of malice behind his words. In fact, he found the whole thing rather amusing.

"You can get used to anything, if you experience it enough," Slade turned, examining the tape on his hands for damage before returning to striking the bang with dull thumps.

"How many times have you been shot?" Fyers smirked.

"Three through and through, five stuck in me and two scrapes."

"Rather unlucky," Lance commented.

"Considering the amount of times I have been shot at, I'm surprised I'm still alive," Slade did not stop hitting the sand filled back.

From the corner of his eye, Lance spotted a black suit. Yao Fei. He had come to talk to Slade, the whole reason Lance had come down into one of the training rooms. He had told the man to wait, so it must have been pretty important for Yao Fei to follow him. That, or he just plain did not care.

The man was a real mystery. He never showed any emotion or let on what he thought about, even the little things. But, as Lance had learned, he was Oliver's teacher; the very hood that the blonde wore belonged to the older man. And, as distant and cold as he seemed, he often touched Oliver, Shado, even Thea and Slade, and completely relaxed in their company. Like Slade, his calm was really a façade- any second he could lash out like a snake.

"Asshole," Yao Fei said, his voice clear and void of any feeling.

"Please tell me you're not improving your English with American TV?" Slade turned.

Without even a hint of...anything really. Yao Fei tilted his hips to one side, then threw his body around, his leg flying up into the air, his shoe colliding straight into Slade's cheek with such speed and strong force that the Aussie was knocked back. Yao Fei pulled his leg back to him, his knee up to his chest, before lowering his foot back to the ground. The whole act was seamless.

Yao Fei allowed Officer Fyers to handcuff his hands behind his back. His black eyes stayed boring into Slade's.

"There's no need," Slade grumbled, rubbing his cheek. He opened his mouth, moving his sore jaw around in circular motions.

Fyers looked over to Lance.

Lance looked back, then to Slade. "You sure?"

Slade turned to Yao Fei. "Did you speak with Thea?" at the blank stare, he sighed. "I deserved it."

Lance blinked but his vision returned to Fyers. He nodded.


	7. A Friend Lost

"Can we just try it?" Thea asked for the third time in ten minutes.

"No."

Slade and Thea sat opposite each other with crossed legs, their behinds cushioned by a large foam training mat, the dining table and chairs pushed to the wall to give them ample space.

"Why not?"

Slade sighed heavily, wishing Thea would finally take no for an answer. He had hoped that spending time with the young woman would help pick up his mood after his little talk with Wade this morning, but things did not look like they were going to go that way.

As of now, the Australian thought that going out for a run would do him wonders but there were people everywhere, and traffic. He would have to run pretty far out of the city, but at this point the idea still did not seem like a bad one. Although, he did not want quiet, he just could not take thinking about them right now, all that had- No.

"Roy was trained."

"Roy could already fight."

"And Ollie?" she raised a brow.

Slade almost wanted to smile, if it was not for his growing irritation. "Things were very intense for him. He had to survive, so he had to become stronger. I am not going to teach you how to fight. Your brother and boyfriend are not some sort of Justice League."

"My father was killed by my real father, my mother is in prison, and my brother and boyfriend go out and fight criminals at night. Is it so wrong that I want to be on their level?" She folded her arms.

Slade's lip twitched at that. Words of a friend echoing in his mind.

_"Is it so wrong for me to want to be at your level? I can take it. You should know me well enough by now."_

"Strength means pain."

"I can take it," Thea pushed.

"For heaven's sake," Slade muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I will teach you how to defend yourself, how to make your body work better but that. Is. All."

"Why?" Thea frowned. Over all the people she had thought about asking, she figured Slade would have jumped at the idea. "Because I'm female? Because I'm eighteen? Nineteen in January, I should point out."

"No," Slade shook his head, his eyes squeezing shut. "They can't work, I can't work, knowing that you're part of this fucked up life."

"I'm already part of-"

"And that's as fucking far as it's going!" His dark eyes drilled into hers.

Thea jumped at the man's sudden yell. She had never heard him yell before. She could feel her heart thumping like a marathon runner, her breath tugging from her lungs in sharp pants, against her will.

Slade blinked. He could see the fear. It was his fault. It was all his fault.

"You'll become part of this shit hole of a life," Slade hissed. "And, one day, we won't be here and you will die. How the hell do you expect me to live with myself after that?" He asked, his white teeth bared.

Thea gulped, trying to hold down her growing fear. She had never seen such a dark look in Slade's eyes, such anger in his voice.

"Get out." Slade growled. His fists clicked.

Thea looked at him for a few seconds; frozen by fear and curiosity of what he would do. Her questions were soon answered when he bellowed.

"Get out!"

Thea scrambled to her feet, breaking out into a run. She did not stop still she was out the door, which slammed behind her. She could feel the palpitations wreck her body as she waited, terrified that the sound or condition of the door had angered Slade further.

She waited for what felt like an hour but could have very well been mere seconds, before breaking out into a run once more. It was only when she very nearly tripped down the stairs, that she realised that a good deal of her shortness of breath were from the sobs tearing from her body. Tears ran down her cheeks.

* * *

><p>Slade had planned to meet Oliver at the courthouse, to stand by him as he spoke for his mother, but the Aussie no longer thought that possible after this morning. It was not Thea's fault. She did nothing wrong. He had just really not been in the mood, then he had made it worse when he tried to get her to leave.<p>

He stopped in mid-step when he saw the object of his concern. Thea was sat outside the courtroom. She was dressed in formal wear but Slade knew she would not be going inside once it started. Unlike everything she wore, her clothing did not fit her well. As the dress shirt seemed baggy on her slender frame, it was likely Laurel's. This only made Slade feel worse. She was sat between Roy and Oliver, who were surrounded by Laurel, Tommy and Shado.

Shado spotted him like a hawk.

Slade sighed. He stepped over.

Shado muttered something to Oliver, which had his head shooting up, his eyes locking with Slade's. He stood. He had that crinkle up his nose that said he was angry, his top lip twitching, but his eyes were pained. He did not move as Slade made his way over, by which point Roy had already stood and was ranting.

"Who do you think you are?!" Roy grabbed Slade's shirt with both hands, trying to tug him forward but Slade was very much an immovable wall. "What's wrong with you?!"

Oliver took hold of Roy's shoulder. "Stand down," he ordered, his grip tightening when Roy tensed. Ollie blinked at the discolouration over Slade's cheek bone. "What happened to your cheek?"

"Deserved kick to the face."

Shado hummed. "That's where baba went."

"Yao Fei kicked you?" Thea sat up. "Are you okay?"

Slade smiled. She still looked and sounded so worried for him, although a little hesitant. "I'm fine, kid. I'm sorry about this morning. I should never have had a go at you like that."

Thea shook her head. "I shouldn't have prodded."

Slade moved around Roy, which had the young man about to follow, before Oliver stopped him with a hard poke in ribs. Roy squirmed and whined at the odd pain.

Slade crouched down in front of Thea. "It was nothing you did. Wade had to give me some bad news this morning."

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked, his expression softening. It must have been bad for Slade to act like he did.

Slade took a breath, his eyes downcast. "When I joined the navy, I met with a woman by the name of Adeline. She was American, the only woman in our unit, but she was a Tactician, amazing with a firearm and had an eidetic memory. She was my closest friend, along with Wade, for my whole time there," A faint memory flashed through his mind. He smiled. "We used to watch TV together while making C4. She named her son after me, my middle name, Joey, a nickname to her," his lips wobbled, his teeth clenching together. "She even asked me if I would act as a sperm donor when her and husband were having issues, although it all worked out in the end. Point is, she meant a great deal to me." His breath blew out sharply.

"Sla-" Shado started.

"And two months ago," Slade cut her off, "someone broke into her home and stabbed her fifty-six times. Most in the stomach, a few times in the face and far too many at- In," he swallowed. "Her genitals," he gasped as the rage came too much to bare.

"Oh, God," Laurel looked on horror. It was all so awful.

"The thing that really gets me," Slade said, voice soft and raw in a way no one but Oliver, and on one occasion Shado, had heard it. "Her son. He walked in on it. The guy cut open his throat. He's still alive but he'll never speak again."

Oliver was frozen in place. They all were. What do you say to something like that? What do you do? Before Ollie could even think about speaking, Slade continued.

"And his father, Addie's husband? Six years ago, I killed him," Slade ran a hand through his hair, pulling on the ends, fully deserving the pain. The weapon hung up on his bedroom wall.

"That was justified," Oliver said, coming out more childish than he would have wanted.

Slade slowly moved his head side to side. "Billy sold out his country, held me captive for a year but he still could have saved them."

Tommy and Laurel turned to each other. Neither of them knew such a thing had happened.

Laurel had remembered the name the minute she heard it. "Your partner," she said, her voice barely there. 'I thought you said that your partner died fighting with you?' she wanted to ask.

"We were caught and Wintergreen switched sides for the money. I never wanted Joe to know, so I lied. ASIS figured it out, as did Addie, but we never spoke of it." Slade's shoulders shook with a laugh. "And, just to make things worse, I'm Joe's Godfather, his first and only option."

Oliver's eyes flew wide as he realised a responsibility Slade might have to take. "You..."

"I am not the best choice but ASIS would like me to take custody until her killer is found," Slade said, his voice coming back to its usual gruff self, deep and strong like nothing had ever happened. He looked over to Oliver. "Sorry to spring this all on you at once. I'm not even sure what I'm going to do. I need time to think. I'll be heading over to Central city tomorrow as part of a team to relocation Tockman."

Oliver nodded, his mind still recovering from all he had learnt. He did remember Tockman though. Oliver and the woman in black had worked together to take him down. It was last minute and Ollie still had no idea who she was or what she wanted, but for the time being, her intentions seemed good.

"You won't be looking after him on your own," Oliver said. As far as protective custody went, an apartment with a ex-ASIS agent and a master archer was the safest in Starling.

Slade pinched the bridge of his nose with an exhausted grunt. He should have never said anything. The quiet held off the pain, the mental and physical ache. It was like losing his family, like losing Wade. He had no clue of what to do, how to act or what to say. He just wanted to be alone but at the same time, felt the need to have people close. He needed so much and yet also wanted to disappear completely. He just did not want to feel like this anymore.

He would keep his face still, he would hold off everything, as long as it took. What he wanted to do was track this fucker down. What he could and needed to do was protect Joe. Which was at the cost of leaving those he cared for exposed to danger.

Thea jumped down onto her knees and wrapped her around Slade's large solid chest, her face tucked into her neck.

Slade flinched at the contact, which had Oliver reaching a hand forward in worry. Startling Slade could result in Thea being seriously hurt, not that he would mean to but it was a natural reaction.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

And with those words, Slade went limp, sitting his chin on her shoulder. He did not care how weak he was being; he did not want to leave this warmth, this comfort.

Ollie smiled.

* * *

><p>Oliver did his best not to leer at the back of the lawyer's head as the man went on and on about how Oliver's mother was a no-good accomplice. At least Slade and Thea were not here- they would both find it hard not to speak up. But, the twosome had gone to get coffee. Their moods had certainty perked up. Looking back when he had first met the Aussie, Ollie would have never guessed that he and Thea could be so close. The fact that he and Lance also got along had been surprising when the blonde had first seen it.<p>

"Tell me, mister Queen," The man spun around from his ranting to the jury to face the stand. "Could you honestly forgive your mother for her acts?"

"Objection!" Moira's lawyer called.

"Yes."

The judge took a double take at the Oliver, completely forgetting about having to ask the female lawyer her grounds of objection. It was a rather direct but acceptable question. "Could you repeat that, mister Queen?"

Oliver glanced over and nodded. "I forgave her that night. She was only trying to protect us."

"Then why didn't you visit?" The lawyer asked. When he spoke again he moved his arms as if he doing a dramatic reading. "If a son had really forgiven his mother, wouldn't he have paid his mother a visit at least once a week for those five months? But no, not once did he go to see her. This is the first time he has seen her in nearly half a year," he turned back to Oliver. "Am I right?"

"Did you study drama?" Oliver asked.

The lawyer blinked. The younger man seemed completely unfazed by his words.

"Because it shows."

Tommy and Laurel found themselves chuckling along with a several others in the courtroom. Shado smiled. Oliver could be a real wordsmith when he was not fumbling over lies. It was one of his qualities that made him such a natural leader.

"Not coming to see her had nothing to do with Malcolm..." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The real reason was something that he could not say but the timing had been unfortunate. He had thought of bringing up what he was about to say for some time. It would make a good cover and truth be told, he wanted the public to know. He wanted everyone to know. "That week, Slade and I came out, we said we loved each other for the first time. And then, just hours before," I found out about Thea. "Before this whole mess came to light. Slade asked me to marry him."

A hush ran over the already silent high ceiled room.

"On the island, Slade and I became close over him distracting me from being terrified, by listening to music with an iPod," he shook his head, eyes to his hands, his eyelashes low. "Our first kiss was during a training session on how to hide if you're cornered by mercs. And the night I realised I loved him, he nearly died after being stabbed. And, without really saying it out loud, we made a deal to never speak about the future or love."

Oliver raised his head. "I realised that even if those sentimental moments were ruined, it doesn't matter. They mean a lot to me anyway and I still have Slade in my life. Holding this against my mother was childish of me," His green eyes met that of his mother's. "Because she loves me and I never want to lose her."

Moira's shoulders shook with a few jumps before she managed to stop the emotions threatening to have her lose all control. Her hand was over her mouth, her eyelashes damp and hiding the developing pink of her eyes. She did her best to smile, even as her bottom lip wobbled.

Oliver took a breath, his eyelids fluttering shut. He was not sure if he could ever forgive her; Thea did not seem like she could. But seeing her, for once in her life looking out of place in expensive formal clothing, Oliver wanted nothing more that to hold her. He missed her. He. Needed. Her.

What should she have done? Aborted Thea? Gone with Robert to China? Told the police who would have never have believed her, and put Thea's life on the line by doing so?

Oliver met her gaze again, a smile in his eye. He would never let her suffer again.

* * *

><p>"Stark, it's Oliver," Ollie said into his phone as he jogged down the stone steps of the court house. He had managed to cover for Thea's lack of interest for her mother, by stating that she was following his suit. All in all, things had gone well. Telling them about the marriage had been a plan that Slade had agreed with but Oliver never wanted to use it like that. But like Oliver had said, having life the way you wanted it was worth a few hardships.<p>

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm going to head to Central city tomorrow. We have a couple of factories there." Oliver figured that if Slade needed him during this hard time, he could be there, and if not, well, Oliver would have to check the buildings out sooner or later.

* * *

><p>Tony smiled.<p>

Wade tilted his head from where he sat on the cream suede sofa of the rented house Tony had taken for his own for the last week.

"Sounds like fun," Tony put a hand over the mouthpiece. "Road trip."

Wade laughed. He gave the billionaire two gloved thumbs up before he stood, leaving the room. He moved through the large house, lights above flickering on before him and off as he passed. He had urge to pace forward and back, increasing his speed to see if Jarvis would play along.

Wade stopped before the wooden door. He pulled away his hood and scarf, knowing how the younger inside hated those who hid their faces. For very understandable reasons.

He knocked the wood with his knuckles before opening the door. He stepped inside and flopped down into a bean bag beside the dark-haired boy. He grabbed a controller. "What are we playing, Joe?"

Joe took the Stark Industries-made tablet from where it lay next to his feet, leaving the controller in his lap. He typed and pressed enter, an electronic voice speaking for him.

_"A fighting game?"_

"Okay, but I warn you, I'm really good. Winner takes on Tony!"

Joe smiled, moving from his bean bag to look through the shelf of games.

Wade's eyes went to Joe's black scarf, which hid the bandages. Wade really owed Tony a lot for taking care of the kid all this time, even coming to Australia to spend time with him, taking him to his home in New York and then moving to Starling. Even when the last one held something for him. Hopefully Slade would come round soon but until then, he did have another friend in town.

He took the phone from his jacket pocket, writing a text.

_Hiya birdy. Would Sin mind acting as a potential backup babysitter?_


	8. Trapped

**Arrow and Flash crossover~**

**Looking to be a three parter.**

**Based on the Flash episode Power Outage. You REALLY should watch the episode. I'll explain all of what happened but with just basic detail that I bore you all.**

* * *

><p>Peter Parker knew he had a crush. From the moment he saw that drawing, he was smitten with a man whose face he had never seen.<p>

Wade Wilson's humor was sharp and quick-witted and he was loud and lively, yet Wade seemed antisocial. Like Peter, he preferred to spend most of his time alone and he stuck to a few people he liked, but loved them so deeply that Peter was not sure whether to laugh or be embarrassed. It had been rather entertaining to watch Wade cling to Slade with all four limbs.

Peter found himself often thinking about the man in the past two days. Wondering how he was settling in his apartment with his one-eyed cat Hatchet, a Turkish van dubbed so from the weapon that had caused the injury. Sitting on the sofa with the white fluff ball on his lap, while watching Golden Girls and sharing chimichanga.

Peter Parker lived in a pretty nice area with his aunt and uncle. He had been doing so since his parents died when he was a toddler, so they were all he ever knew. His uncle Ben used to work as an MP in the army, so becoming a police officer after made a lot of sense, while aunt May worked in a restaurant as the manager. They were both strong people and raised Peter well.

The one thing they did not have a hand in teaching Peter was his intelligence. From a young age, he could take a radio apart completely and put it back together. He would take a look at some sort of issue involving the TV or some wiring for the lights or the boiler with his uncle, and could advise him on what he should do from deducting what could cause the outcome and what should fix it. With no previous knowledge of a device, Peter could fix and improve almost anything he could get his hands on. No one in his family had his kind of smarts, which did get to him at times.

As of tonight, Peter was out with a few friends. He was nineteen and studying engineering on a scholarship- he both could not and would not risk drinking at a nightclub. Their plans were to get pizza, hang around together and talk for a few hours, and see where life took them after. His plans changed however as they were walking along the side of the road, opposite to the club Oliver Queen owned, ran by his sister. Peter saw a man ahead of them ducking into an alleyway, his face covered by a red scarf, his eyes by red framed sunglasses.

Could it be?

Peter stopped as he came to the alleyway. The man was gone but the ring of metal had his vision moving up. The man was jumping between the fire escapes, swinging his body up with only the grip of his fingers, and as he reached the top, he rolled over the fencing, landing perfectly on the platform, before heading onto the roof.

Peter's hyper-awareness caught the mumbles from his friends as to where he had gone, heard how their footsteps slowed. He took his phone from his pocket, examining the blank screen.

"Peter?" One of his friends looked over.

"I'll see you there. I've got to make a call."

Once excused, Peter went into the alleyway. He took the fire escape. It was much safer than the new means he had not yet mastered. The microscopic hairs that covered his palms, feet, the inside of his arms and his thighs, were strong but wavering in attachment. And he was still not entirely sure what had caused them to develop in the first place.

Peter's head peeked over the stone wall to see the man sat down and looking at the stars. He blinked. It was Wade, and his face was no longer covered.

Wade had no hair on his head or above his eyes, his skin was pink with hills and dips of red. He looked like a burn victim and it was all very hard to ignore, but there were other things Peter could not help but see. His diamond shaped jaw, strong nose and his pink lips which were slightly parted. The light of the city illuminated the older man, to a point, so Peter could see that his eyes were dark but was unsure on the colour. His expression was calm but not relaxed, more melancholy.

Peter unconsciously shifted his feet, the souls of his shoes squeaking lightly. Thankfully not enough to be heard by any normal person over the traffic of vehicle and people alike. To Peter, the sound called to his like the squawk of a bird of prey.

Wade stood instantly, drawing swords from his back, that Peter had been too distracted to notice were there.

Peter gulped but pushed his shoulders back. Playing it cool would be the best strategy but he did not have a chance to act any further. He watched as Wade's stern face turned to that of fear. He dropped his swords in favour of crossing his arms over his face.

"What are you doing here?!" Wade snapped, tensing further as his back bumped against the wall belonging to the small building that housed the stairwell.

"I'm sorry! I saw you going up the fire escape and I-" wanted to see you again? Peter had no idea what he should do. He was a logical person but he was also considered reckless. According to his uncle, Peter listened to his gut over his brain which said a lot seeing how smart he was.

He stepped forward, "I mean, man, you went up it like a pro. It was really impressive. Like a ninja."

"Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out."

Peter frowned. He had to fix this."I'm sorry. I-"

"Not you! But yes, wise idea."

Peter took those last few strides forward and touched Wade's arm, hoping to comfort him but instead got a fist coming at him at breath-taking speed, he caught it, which was only due to his enhanced speed. Peter did not just mean to catch it but to push Wade back, just enough in case the other man were to throw another punch, but that did not happen.

Peter had not meant to use unbelievable strength. It was not really something he could control, not easily anyway. It should have been enough to push the other man several feet back, which would have slammed him against the wall but Wade had not been affected, he had not moved, save the shake of their hands as they collided. And that was not the worse part. Peter had faced an old group of bullies since his newborn abilities, which he knew he could not risk using in public and this meant he could not fight back. From the one time he had caught a punch, it had felt as soft as a leaf brushing against his palm, but now, he could feel Wade's strength and force.

They were alike.

Wade's eyes flew wide. Revealing them to be brown with soft speckles of yellow, making them seem amber."I'm sorry...I...how?"

"Never mind me. How did you..." Peter pulled his hand away, and as if he had not already outed himself to be something abnormal, his hand stayed gripping Wade's, in that attachment way he had been worried about before. Really. Bad. Timing.

"The hell?"

* * *

><p>"Not a lot," Slade said into his phone, moving to balance it between his head and shoulder so he could sign the last of the release papers for the officer. "There's a lot of crime but nothing overly bad, for the most part." He smiled at the woman, handing the clipboard back. "You should have seen this one guy. Charcoaled. Looked like someone threw a fireball at him."<p>

_"Sightseeing?"_

Slade chuckled, holding the phone to his head. "Tell me you're not just the littlest bit interested," he glanced over to the elevator as it pinged. His eyes stayed when the doors opened to show two Central City police officers with Tockman. The guy was not that dangerous as he was, hands locked behind his back, no more than any other man going to prison. Plus, he was a hacker, not a ex-agent like Slade, or spy as many people would say.

Tockman's attention was taken by commenting on the watch belonging to a lab tech. Allen?

_"Maybe just a little. Stark invited himself here, he just called me, saying he wants to show me something."_

"Oh?"

* * *

><p>"Well," Oliver put phone off speaker before placing it on the nightstand. He set about pulling his coat sleeves over the green leather that would make him Arrow. "Since that streak that had been seen in Central city, Tony's upgraded and added security cameras for our factories. They take something like a hundred pictures a second, I don't know. Anyway, it's still a bit blurry but the streak is a guy in red leather."<p>

_"Hmm...Starling gets green leather, Central gets red."_

Oliver paused. "Don't even suggest such a thing," Ollie could practically hear the smirk. "The uniform is weird. Stark called it dreadful. Anyway, the two of us were meant to go to the edge of the city, so he could show me this suit of his. He went ahead and I let him wait for inviting himself, but he said that he saw," he exhaled, not sure how to describe it. "Well, in his words, he saw 'a man that shot lightning'."

_"Never heard of such a weapon."_

"It gets better. Stark said that the lightning guy shot at the streak, by hand and sucked on him."

Slade snorted. _"What?"_

"He said he was sucking some sort of light from him and that he talked about being hungry."

_"Was Tony spotted?"_

"He was watching from a security camera," Oliver patted at the compacted bow on his belt. Thankfully he had thought about testing it and his new arrows before his trip. He tugged at the arrow ammunition strap over his leather. He had already taken out one of the four rows of compact arrow poles. They lay snapped out on the bed and he attached the arrowheads as he spoke. The metal was his own make; he only liked his own arrowheads.

Looks like he was going to have to use a sofa cushion case as a quiver but they looked thick enough to handle the metal.

_"And red?"_

"We assume he lost his abilities, for how long is unclear. He had to hitchhike. Stark went round the block and came back to pick him up. Red said he had been at a cosplay party."

_"Where did he want to go?"_

"Do you remember that particle accelerator that exploded? Felicity told us about it."

_"Oh, right."_

"It's the same building. STAR labs-" Oliver jerked his phone away at a vibration. A text? He glanced at the screen. It was from Tony. The whole message just fit on the page as it was written in shorthand. "Tony used facial recognition. His name is Barry Allen. He's a lab tech for Central city."

There was a pause. _"Well, in that case, he just left. Back to normal or not, you won't have too long. Proceed with caution and keep me informed."_

"Always do," Oliver smiled, his body relaxed from that hyperaware state he took before he faced a fight. "I love you."

_"I love you, too."_

* * *

><p>Oliver jumped down from the fire escape he had been observing the huge arena-like building from. Tony jumped out his skin, letting out a yelp he was not proud of, before growling murmurs at the air, at Jarvis for not warning him. Oliver could not help the twitch at his lip, not that Tony could see, as they were more than twenty feet apart. What he could see however, was a briefcase. It had a squired 'w' of gold and the rest was a fiery red.<p>

Oliver strolled over. "What's the plan?"

Tony gave the blonde a funny look. "Plan?" he placed a hand to his chest. "My plan?"

Oliver nodded. "You got us this far. Barry's on his way from the station. He'll likely get a taxi, which will give us half an hour, traffic providing. It's just the two of us, so what's your plan?"

Tony's lips parted and closed like a fish, before they shut for good. He squinted at the younger man, still questioning the other's intentions.

"My plan? Hmm..." he clicked his fingers and pointed to the building. "Direct approach. The place will have cameras-"

"So they left cameras just in case they needed evidence to convict themselves?" Oliver could not help but poke.

Tony only blinked. "No, but I can get them on. We can see who his friends are, if they have any weapons, and when he break in," he pointed a finger at Oliver. "I'll stop the signal leaving the electronic doors, that they have been opened, which means no setting off of alarms. And the cams they do have, I'll put on loop."

Oliver stopped before his business partner. He smiled. "Good. All set?"

"Just one thing left to do." Tony removed his coat, followed by a Led Zeppelin shirt. Both of which he folded and placed into a plastic shopping bag from his coat pocket. He was not going to let them get dirty. He placed the airtight package of clothing on the concrete floor and lifted his case. He balanced it on a raised knee so he could dig his fingers into the eight dips. "Open," he ordered.

The mixture of his fingerprints and vocal recognition caused the case to beep. It flew open, spreading out into arms of layered metal. It moved like biological organism, rolling its body along Tony's arms and back with ease and speed. From there, it moved out further, wrapping around and clinging to Tony's body. It did stop, only when Tony's entire body was covered in colourful metal, minus his grinning face.

He was now as tall as his leather clad partner in crime, his body padded out by the body armour. As he lifted his hand in greeting, Oliver could see the light blue circle on his palm. The thing that really caught Oliver's attention however, was the bright, almost white, glowing light in the man's chest. The arc reactor, the suit's power source. It was risky to put it on show like that but something told him it was not easy to get to.

"What do you think?"

"The fuck is that?"

"So, you do swear," Tony fist pumped. "It's made of gold titanium alloy, keeps it working with the arc reactor in extremely cold temperatures."

"And the red?"

"Gold was a little showy," Tony shrugged, the metal making soft clang. Sneaking him into the building would be interesting.

"Rrrright. Okay, I'll admit, I did not expect that."

"I would hope not." He pressed the side of his helmet, his gold face plate slamming down, a pair of eye slits glowing a neon blue. "Jarvis, proceed the hacking."

"Wait, why aren't you going to do it?"

"I made Jarvis, he's damn good, plus I can see everything he's doing. Not my first rodeo, Arrow."

Oliver threw his hood over his face. "I hope so."

"Congrats by the way."

Oliver paused. He was all set to march into battle and Tony's words had him flying back to reality. His first thoughts were not about his mother, nor the courtroom, but of Slade. The love of his life, his other half. He felt warm, a smile pulling at his lips.

"I meant to say before, but, you know, corporate douche bags and all. I'll have to start planning your stag due. Is it just men?"

Oliver took note of the raise in pitch, which was difficult to tell with how metallic Tony's voice had become but it was still there. Tony already knew, or at least he thought he did. Tony had shown from their last talk with board members, that he definitely took his time to get some serious research done. Tony reminded Oliver of Slade's stories about spies, he had to know every little detail, because anyone could give him that crack that he could dig his nails into and wear them down into a pool of self-loathing and submission.

Not to say he was sadistic. Tony poked to annoy but gutted for more personal reasons.

In their last talk, when the matter of Oliver's marriage came around, Tony seemed to take offence on Oliver's behalf. He kept a cool, calm face as he changed from 'entertainer but still your boss' to an almighty tower of 'you do not want to fuck with me', in the blink of an eye.

"Just men. And I want to thank you, for the meeting."

"Few are graced with my presence. Treasure it."

Tony felt pleased with himself when his scanners picked up the smirk on Oliver's lips.

* * *

><p>"Maybe he's just worn out," Caitlin, a laboratory technician for STAR labs, pointed out from her computer chair. "When his blood sugar is low he can't run."<p>

"But there's nothing his body seems to need," Cisco, her work partner, said, "Except his powers. Maybe he could reabsorb them from Blackout."

Dr. Harrison, the head of the department, was about to list all the many ways in which that idea was absurd, when he caught something dark from the corner of his eye. He turned, a figure coming into his sight at the doorway. "We have a guest."

Caitlin and Cisco followed his glance. Caitlin froze in her seat at the sight of the Arrow, his bow in hand, although not drawn. While Cisco shot out of his seat, his hands held up in surrender.

"Blackout?" Tony said, waltzing into room. "Now, that's a name. Hm, Arrow? Not very creative. Why not at least Green Arrow?" He had Jarvis modify his mouthpiece, causing his voice to seem more stiff, sounding a lot like the AI, aside from the British accent. It sounded as though someone was controlling the suit from elsewhere, instead of a man inside the suit itself. It was a good cover.

"I have my reasons," Oliver grumbled. "What would you prefer?"

Tony hummed. He crossed his ankles, tapping his metal boot tip on the marble floor, along with his finger to his chin. "How about..." he held out his hands, spreading them outwards with open fingers, as if revealing some grand title. "The Emerald Archer."

There was a pause.

"I'll admit, I like that," he looked over to Cisco. "You can sit down. We are not here to cause harm. We came here to see your friend in red?"

"The Flash," Tony added.

Ollie turned. "_That's_ his name?"

"Who's taken charge of naming these guys?"

Cisco looked back and forth between the man and bot before he spoke up. "Me, I guess."

"Nice one, dude!"

Oliver rolled his eyes from under the hood. "I knew I would live to regret this," he turned back to the male lab tech. "Sit or I will make you."

Cisco grabbed the arm rests with shaking hands and flopped down.

"You need to chill. This is how you scare people," Tony placed a hand on the archer's shoulder.

Oliver moved away from the other man, he may have seemed angry with his face hidden, his voice low by his audio modifier. Truth is, he was rather amused by the whole thing.

"We're just here to see Barry, tin can here saw him lose his powers to Farooq Gibran," Oliver explained.

A sharp metallic hum came from the mental suit as Tony noticed the plainly disrespectful nickname.

"You know?" Dr. Harrison blinked.

"Don't feel too bad," Tony pointed a thumb to Oliver. "I did the same to him."

"And now I'm stuck with you."

Tony did not reply but then he started mumbling to himself, which once again, must have been Jarvis, before he continued. "Speaking of Barry, he's here," Tony said, casually walking over to the lab techs and taking the free computer chair.

For as much of a genius as Tony Stark was, it was truly amazing that he thought that the plastic chair would really carry his weight and the twenty stone suit. The suit was build to hold off the weight from his body and to act like a second skin, moving with him. The chair was not.

The chair groaned under his weight. The base had a metal pole, which did hold out but the flexible material caused him to tip back and tumble over into a roll.

Oliver's ability to keep a still face fell through with a hiss, holding the back of his hand to his mouth as he tried with everything he had not to burst out laughing.

Barry's team looked between each other, all of them wondering if the others were seeing this too.

* * *

><p>"I really need my powers," Barry said, his voice muffled as he was pulled on his STAR labs jumper. "I'm getting sick of- Why is there a robot sitting on the floor?" His eyes flashed with a childlike glee and he smiled as the bot waved at him from where it sat awkwardly cross legged on the floor. Barry was just about to ask who had made such a thing, when a voice caught his attention.<p>

"Because he broke your chair, Flash"

Barry turned his head, eyes flying wide. "Oh my God," he could not believe it. "It's you!"

"You have a fan!" Tony clapped, then stopped as alarms started to flash. He checked to see what was wrong. "Oh. That's not good," Why had Jarvis not noticed this sooner? Wouldn't he have when they were outside? Was it something about the building? The holographic screen was quivering and he only had visual alarms. Jarvis was not talking at all. Maybe an unbelievable fire wall, but why had everyone been surprised when they arrived? Unless it was hiding something in particular and its presence was

really fucking with Jarvis.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked.

"The buildings near the entrance have just lost all power. I think Blackout is on his way."

* * *

><p>Slade looked up at the flickering lights, then out to the city, most of which was also flashing bright and dark. His thoughts about calling Oliver to find out if that strange man with the ability to suck electricity was on the loose were cut short by the ring of a gun. He grabbed his side arm as he span around, followed by other SWAT members and officers.<p>

Tockman was free, a gun in his hand, a dead police officer on the floor. Quick as a flash, Tockman grabbed a civilian, his arm around her throat, the hot barrel entrance pressed to her temple.

He was yelling at people, pushing them deeper into the room, and straight away Slade knew where this was heading. He felt a knot in his stomach when Tockman mentioned the resemblance between detective West and the woman he held. A officer with family in the building and at this minute was being threatened. That's just what Slade needed.

Tockman surveyed the crowd, knowing he had control now. "Weapons on the ground, in that circle," he nudged his head to a pattern on the stone floor.

If the guy could move his head a little more to the left, Slade could get a clean shot, but he could not risk shooting with the woman acting as a human shield. Distracting him would not work. He had his back to the wall and his eyes were too focused to be fooled.

Slade could just shoot Tockman through her but Slade would likely be arrested, and there were better ways to take care of this. Plus, the two were not quite lined up right.

Slade glanced to the others among him with their guns drawn. No one seemed to be taking charge, not that Slade could really blame them. He himself was not panicked, he was good at this sort of thing, although, if he was being honest, the feeling of padding over his chest was comforting.

Slade pushed the safety on and tossed his gun into the designated area. "Alright."

Detective Joe West eyed the Australian, then to his daughter. He concluded the man had the right idea, the best chance Iris would have is if they obeyed. He disposed of his gun too. "Really hope you have a plan," he mumbled to the man as he passed.

"We'll see," Slade very nearly mumbled back, his vision glued to Tockman as more men and women walked forward.


	9. Hidden for Survival

The cameras went dark as Blackout sucked them dry of electric life. The lights above the group flickered, leaving them in complete and total darkness for several short intervals but they thankfully stayed on after that. The computer screen was reduced to static.

"How did he follow me here?" Barry questioned himself upon his return, pulling the head piece on, his body decked in red.

"He can't, unless he was stalking you, which I would have picked up on," Tony pointed out.

"You're the one that sounds like a stalker."

"Alright," Doctor Wells wheeled himself away from the computer desk. "I've shut all the doors I can from here, but I have a feeling that won't stop him."

"Then we will have to knock him out," Oliver said. "Do you have anything I can inject him with?"

Caitlin raised her hand. "I do. Are your gloves made of rubber?"

"Leather."

"I'll get you a pair too," she said before running over to cabinet.

"Wouldn't want to get up close and personal with a human bug zapper," Tony commented. "Why not just shoot him?"

"I made a promise not to kill," he slipped a hand into his skin tight pocket. His phone was dead. Great. Must have had something to do with the lightning guy.

"Great timing," Stark sighed. "Can't you just maim him a little?"

"That, I can do," Arrow turned to Flash. "Can you fight without your powers?"

Barry paused for a second before shaking his head. "But I'll help you in anyway I can."

Bravery. It was a start at least. "Have your team dealt with people like this before?"

"We call them Metahumans," Caitlin cut in, items in hand. "We have but never one like this and without Barry, but we do have a specially made prison for them."

Oliver and Tony both stilled.

"Should we be worried about that?" Tony asked.

"N-no," Caitlin shook her head, looking a bit flustered. "The explosion," she swallowed. Even thinking about it felt far too soon. "It caused people to mutate. We have the technology that created them, we can also use it to house them."

Tony turned to his partner. "I'm not feeling much better about this," then back to the team with a pointed finger. "But you have got to let me check out the tech sometime."

"It'll do," Oliver nodded. He took the gloves and filled syringe. Normally he would just choke his target, holding down the blood vassal in the neck to stop blood going to their brain, within seconds, the person would be unconscious. But that was not the wisest idea when his opponent was electrified.

Ollie held a hand out to Barry and Tony. "Sparky you're with us, and tin can, I'm going to need you to get in contact with my fiancé. Tell them we need back up. No cops, it's too dangerous."

"Wait. You have a fiancée? She knows what you do?" Barry's eyes were wide but thoughtful. Love interest. Had to be.

Oliver nodded. "We all work and fight as a team," He would have to be careful when he spoke about Slade, best option was to use the term fiancé only. Finding out that he was marrying a man pretty much put the nail in the coffin that Oliver Queen was the Arrow.

"Calling now," Tony said.

* * *

><p>Detective Joe West looked over the situation. There were fifteen people tied up as hostages, eight Central city officers, two from Starling, three assistants and one civilian, his daughter. Detective Thawne was hiding behind a desk, waiting to make his move, and outside, police were once again trying to get in contact with Tockman, who was ignoring them since he had already made his demands quite clear.<p>

Joe glanced over to the dark haired Australian kneeling next to him. The SWAT member, as if he felt the look, turned. Their eyes were joined for a few seconds before they both turned away. They were in this together and they had to think of some sort of plan-

A song started up from one of the phones dumped on the floor, flooding the room with Hang By, Hang By by Razorlight.

Tockman stepped over and grabbed it. He snorted. "Lord Stark," he read. "Whose phone is this?"

Slade looked around, no one perked up at the name. "I think it's mine."

Tockman raised a brow over his thick glasses. "You think?"

"I didn't have his number, so I didn't personalise him a song, but from what my fiancé has told me, it sounds like something he would do," Tony must have hacked his phone. He had not even met the man.

Tockman hummed, glancing at the phone. He made his way into the ring of people, "Then answer it. Tell him what's happening." He pressed answer and held the phone to Slade's ear.

Slade frowned, glaring at Tockman but the worry in his gut did lessen at the idea. He needed to know that Oliver was safe and was not being cornered somewhere by a man that might have sucked the city dry. "Hello, Tony."

_"How's it hanging? Ollie and I are tagging along with Barry's crew to face Blackout, the guy with the lightening. We're stuck in the building and he's coming in. We need you to back us up."_

"You what?" Slade growled. "Is Oliver safe?"

_"Whoa, don't shoot the messenger. He's fine. Everything's alright."_

"No, everything is not already. I can't be there, I'm stuck in a hostage situation at the precinct."

_"Well, can't you just wrap that up?"_

Slade gave a deadpan expression to the air. "I'm tied up and the guy holding the phone has a gun in his other hand."

_"Oh."_

"Yes, oh. I'll be fine. Don't tell Oliver under any circumstances-"

Tockman raised the gun, pressing it to Slade's forehead. "I wouldn't do that."

Slade stared back into his eyes. Tockman wanted to stay in power, a little bit of banter with the hostages might be acceptable, to a point. Joe was already working on making a bond with Tockman but straight up denying him would end badly. Slade would not normally hide something like that from Oliver but this was an all new threat and he would need a clear heading. No hurrying to end things so he could come save Slade.

"You're in this on your own. Keep Oliver safe. Hang up, Tony."

Tockman took the phone back, looking at the blank screen. It would have been the perfect time to grab the gun, it was much better used as a long distance weapon after all, but with Slade's hands tied, that was not an option.

"That was a rather stupid thing you just did," Tockman said, tutting. He pressed a button on the phone, watching the screen light up to show a picture of a blonde man. He was sitting in a love seat, smiling up at the camera from behind a book, a checkered scarf around his neck. "You would rather die than let him know?"

"Oliver never leaves his people behind. I would rather die than see him come here and get himself killed," That was a lie. The man was right. He could not risk Oliver knowing, he needed to stay focused. Needed to keep himself alive. Oliver was in much more danger than he was, even at this very moment. Tockman would not kill him. Hit him maybe, even shoot him but killing would do nothing. He hoped anyway. The man seemed to consider himself above violence but he would also act to make a point, as shooting the officer had shown.

Tockman hummed a laugh and stepped away, dropping the phone into the pile with the others with a clatter. He went back to looking out the window. It had started to snow. Large clumps of white fell from above, although it would probably not last long. He rested his head against the wall, trying his best to look up into the dark sky.

"Jesus Christ," Joe said under his breath. "You are all kinds of crazy."

"You should meet my cousin," Slade mumbled in his low grumbly tone. He looked over to Tockman, then to the soft white clumps falling past the glass. His focus fizzed away.

* * *

><p>Slade's eyes opened slowly, still worn. He turned in his cot, sighing when he saw the one beside him bare, yet again.<p>

A few days ago, he had been stabbed by a mercenary during a standard hunting trip. It was below his padding, so he was lucky none of his organs were harmed. As far as he knew. Then, after he awoke, he finally did it. He told Oliver that they should break up.

He loved Oliver with all his heart, and for a thirty-six year old, it was truly amazing that this man, this beautiful, kindhearted and loving man, was his first love. But there was a reason for that. He had been fighting since he was eighteen, mentally and emotionally damaged years before. His first kill at been at twenty-two, the age Oliver was now. The following year he killed four, then next six, and everything blended into one after that. Since the age of twenty-two, he had not gone a year without killing someone, and most years it felts like he could not go a month, sometimes even a week, without killing a person.

It was who he was. He did this to save people, and although he saved thousands, he could still see the blood of hundreds on his hands. Wade, as much as he hated to think about him now, had been dragged down with him, but the passage seemed so slow, and by the time Slade saw what he had become, Wade was already part of that life, in pretty deep. Truth be told he had made his first kill in the same year, at the age of eighteen.

Oliver had killed someone, but he had also left another man behind to die. Thankfully he was one of Fyers' men but had he not been...

Oliver was damaged before he ever came to Slade but not broken. He did not fall nor had he been broken apart to be rebuilt into something that could cope. He should not have to live that life. He had a light about him, a purity. Oliver should get the chance to have all he ever wanted and more. Slade would only take that from him.

Slade felt like such a child as he curled into himself, running his fingertips along one of his eyebrows, the way Oliver would. His touch was light so he could pretend it was his love. He had never needed a person this badly before, his chest ached at the idea of acting like they were nothing.

Movement outside caused Slade to unfold himself. He sat up, hissing at his wound. He kept his body leaning back as he shifted down the cot, putting his bare feet to the dirt floor before he sat up again.

The door of the tent was pushed aside and Yao Fei stepped inside. "I must speak with you about Oliver."

Slade would have laughed had it not been for the pain and his sour mood. "Straight to the point."

"What are you doing?" Yao Fei sat down on the end of Oliver's cot.

"If Oliver could leave this island tomorrow, he could still go back to his normal life. Pretend this never happened and be happy," Slade explained. "He should get that chance."

"That is his choice."

"I know, so for now it's all up to him but after..."

"Why?"

Slade snorted. "Really?"

"You are going to leave him behind."

"So I don't end up dragging down. Make him a killer."

"He is part of the life we lead, he needs to survive and you can't protect him from that. All you can do, is help him. Teach him and stand with him."

Slade shook his head, then his head fell forward with a sigh. He ran a hand ran through his greasy black hair.

Yao Fei spoke. "When I had breaks from the army, I met a monk who was master archer. His name was Xu Tao and we trained together for years. He became The Celestial Archer, a member of the Great Ten."

Slade looked up. He had heard about the Great Ten, they were an amazing but mostly unknown group of fighters in China. Like vigilantes, they took the law into their own hands.

"I joined them. One year, we faced against the Yakuza."

"The Japanese mafia?"

Yao Fei nodded. "The leader's daughter was killing members who had hurt and killed women. She joined us so she could do more. She was a true fighter and I loved her," he gripped the green hood that peeked out from under his coat. "I wore this when I found her, she took it as part of her disguise when she fought. Two years later, Shado was born, and we knew that even after we left, this life would find us one way or another. Maybe Shado would even find it herself. So we taught her to fight. Until she found me here, she had never faced life like this."

Slade blinked. "She hasn't?" How was that possible? Then a thought crossed Slade's mind. He had never seen Shado kill. "Has she killed?"

Yao Fei stiffened and after a breath he shook his head. "She has the fight to and I can not hide her from it, like you can not with Oliver."

Two sets of black eyes met, one with the softest shimmer of brown.

Slade frowned. "When you carry a gun, you're more likely to get shot," he said. He remembered the line from a campaign to ban handguns in one of the American states. Hostility attracted hostility It seemed fitting here. "If Oliver is part of this life, it will be the thing that kills him."

"When you have the knowledge to use it and the wisdom to know when to show your knowledge, you never have to fear, Yao Fei replied. "And there is no love greater than seeing and accepting a person's inner evil," He stood. "Oliver will come back and he will need you if he is to survive."

"And your wife?"

Yao Fei stopped just as he was about to step outside.

"How did she die?"

The elder looked out to the snow that was falling around the trees their temporary home was hidden under. "Disease. We never faced the Yakuza again but had Shado not been trained, I would have had to stay with Fyers," he turned. "And you would be dead, leaving Oliver with the same fate. For the sake of chance, it is better for those we care about to be strong enough to protect themselves. I thought you, of all I have met, would understand," he left, letting the fabric door fall shut behind him.

Slade's eyes slid shut just before the snow could disappear from his view.

* * *

><p>Slade was shocked from his thoughts as he heard yet another gun shot, three this time.<p>

Detective Thawne had made his move, attempting to sneak up on Tockman and was shot for his troubles. He had hit Tockman, twice, but the man was wearing a Kevlar vest. The wound was to Eddie's arm, non-fatal but he would bleed out if he went too long without medical attention.

The civilian was calling to him, worry shining in her eyes. The detective next to Slade was trying to hush her. Iris was her name. Slade had guessed from Tockman's previous comment that the two were family, and the fact that she called him 'dad' confirmed it.

Things were really going downhill quickly.

* * *

><p>The plan was simple. Oliver gave the orders; They would take Blackout at a four-way hall crossroads, Barry would draw his attention from in front, Tony would come from the right and repulsor blast him -whatever that was, Tony said it would be enough to knock him back and leave him dazed- and Oliver would jump him from the left and inject him. Caitlin and Cisco were hiding behind Barry, just behind the double doors that lead to the underground cells, and Dr Wells was already down there, preparing the cell.<p>

Oliver hugged the wall, hidden by the lowered lights, his bow raised. He also did not want to get hit by Tony- that was a huge disadvantage for using long distance weaponry at an enemy from opposite directions.

Barry hollered their target over but the man turned as the circle on one of Tony's raised metallic palms glowed. Barry had felt nostalgic around the robot, more so when a blast of blue shot from its hand.

The shot was a single blast and Blackout caught it. He redirected the energy, following its path like fire along gasoline. His lightning claws grabbed the meta suit, weaving along the armor until he found the source of immense power and clung on.

"Oh- Oh, God- Ah," Tony gasped as he felt the red hot burning in his chest. The electricity left him without any conscious ability to move, his body jerking violently like he was having a seizure. The pain wracked his body, his lungs were on fire, desperately trying to breath. He could breath out but not in, he was not sure whether it was electricity holding his lungs or his own panic. Either way, not being able to breath, not fun.

Blackout cried out as a sharp pain pierce his thigh, he let go of that sweet energy to grab hold of his leg. He growled in frustration at the arrow. He looked up just in time to be smacked in the throat by the end of a bow.

Oliver pushed Blackout down the wall he had come from with a kick to the chest. "Get him out of here, now!"

The two lab techs joined Barry to pull the armored man down the hall. While Oliver kept an arrow aimed at his foe.

Blackout took hold of the Arrow in his leg and ripped it out.

"Oh, that's not good," Tony wanted to say, had he been able to breath.

Blackout did not seem to even register the pain. "Need. More," he moaned.

Well, if Tony was not affected by panic before, he should as hell was now.

Oliver turned and bolted as Tony was pulled past the threshold, leaping over the metal suit. "Door," he ordered.

Cisco threw himself forward, fiddling with the keypad till the metal doors came together. He collapsed against one of them with a sigh. "Remind me to invest adult diapers."

"Can't...breath..." Tony said between fruitless gasps. Well, that was not entirely true. He could breath but it was no where near enough.

"We need to get him out of here," Arrow said, dropping down to his knees. "You'll be fine. You need to calm down."

"Trying..." He flinched as Blackout banged against the doors but he had a much worse problem now. "I'm low on power," his hand went to the arc reactor.

Oliver froze. Then he took a breath. He had no time to spare. "We need to get him to the lab. Right. Now."

"The trolley," Cisco said.

Barry nodded. He ran from the room and returned less than a minute later with one of those industrial trolleys for moving heavy equipment.

* * *

><p>Dr. Wells swore as he received the news over the radio. He had to protect Barry at all costs. He rolled his wheelchair forward, typing the code to open the door containing Tony Woodward, Barry's school bully and a metahuman who could turn his body into flexible steel.<p>

At all costs.

* * *

><p>After Joe picked up on yet another of Tockman's time based quotes, the gun wheeling man knelt down to inspect detective Thawne's wound. He took the officer's tie and wrapped it tightly around his arm, to lower the amount of circulation going to the limb. It would keep him alive, for now. Then Tockman dug a finger into the wound, not even flinching as Thawne yelled and withered in pain below him, then he wrote numbers on the blonde's head.<p>

Slade chuckled softly, getting a sharp look from detective West and a curious one from Tockman.

"So medics will know when the treatment was given," it was a statement, not a question.

Tockman nodded, seemed pleased that Slade had noticed.

"Where did you learn that?"

"If given enough time and using it wisely, you can learn all manner of things, don't you think?"

"I'd say I know a fair bit."

"Oh?" Tockman moved from the circle, his eyes straying to Slade's. "What would you consider to be worthy of your time?"

Slade felt like he was on some sort of strange date, like some of those ones he had seen on American TV shows where you had numerous tables and had a set amount of time talking to each date, having to list all his best qualities to make himself look good before he went to the next person and so on.

"I am fluent in five languages, if you don't include English, I served in the navy since I was eighteen until this year," While he was speaking, he was trying his luck at getting out of the handcuffs. Not impossible but it would take a while and a lot of fidgeting. "I have mastered most bladed weaponry, I am an expert marksman and I know that what you just did is only half the procedure."

Tockman was listening intently to what Slade had to say, all of it was rather interesting, but the last comment triggered his wonder most of all. "What else has to be done?"

"Not now, but every so often, the tie should be loosened to stop the blood from forming clots. When his arm is released, and if the clots are big enough, they have the potential to head to the heart and kill the detective. Instantly."

There was a paused, then Tockman smiled. "Fascinating. How long would it take?"

"Anywhere between half an hour to a few hours, size is the worrying thing. More time, larger clots."

Tockman's eyes narrowed. "And your suggestion? That I keep loosening it and put myself at risk?"

"I doubt you would but there might be some blood thinner around. You can also get the same effect from some pain killer or large amounts of alcohol."

Tockman's brows knitted at that. "Alcohol thins the blood?"

Slade nodded. "I wouldn't trust it to work in this kind of situation. Painkiller would be the most likely option," he pushed.

And Tockman clocked it. "Hm, clever. Keep him alive and pain free," he looked over all those kneeling on the floor.

What Slade really needed was the lock knife from his front pocket but he would have to drag himself over to someone so they could get it out, pass it to him and get back to his spot. All that required a lot of time but he would be able to get his cuffs opened much faster.

"You don't fear me. Everyone here fears me, whether they show it or not. But you. Not even remotely. Why is that?"

"I've been taken hostage many times and I am not a stranger to pain," Slade said, as if he talking about a regular day at the office.

Tockman blinked. He was taken back by the reply and what it hinted. "Most people learn. Why would you allow yourself to keep suffering?"

Slade thought about that for a moment before saying; "It's a way of life. I've stopped the world from being that little bit more shit, it won't hold out forever and it'll get worse in other ways but I'd gladly do it all again."

Tockman hummed, pondering the answer. "And how many have you killed to achieve that?"

That had Slade shutting his mouth, exhaling sharply from his nose. "Can't say with certainty. But a person could kill a man and still sleep soundly at night. With enough training, time and strength of will, you can get used to anything," Slade said simply.

"I see," Tockman eyed Slade for a while before he stepped back to the window, his eyebrows drawn in thought. Slade Wilson was a rather interesting human being.

Joe West looked at Slade dead on, his mouth parted at what he had heard. He almost wanted to moan in sheer relief when the man turned to him and winked. He had no idea what game the man was playing but it had Tockman's attention.

Slade turned back to the detective on the floor, who was also looking freaked out but his stress was somewhat dulled by the pain he was in. "He'll trust me if he thinks I hold no judgement," he explained in a whisper just strong enough for others to hear but his words would be drowned out before they ever got to Tockman by the ruckus outside. Slade's dark eyes then flickered away, getting caught by the sight of blood. An unfortunately familiar substance, almost as common as water. The life depilating liquid had lost all meaning to him. Nothing but a word and a stickiness.

The best covers, the smartest lies, were ones no one could have believed to be true.

* * *

><p>"Doctor Wells is on his way," Caitlin said, her hand on Tony's shoulder, in hope that she could reassure him.<p>

"No...good," Tony gasped, tapping a metal finger on the near indestructible glass on his chest, the blue night underneath flickering. "Need power."

"So it is a robot," Cisco said.

"It's amour," Oliver pointed to the light. "This keeps his heart from failing. Why did it fail? I thought it was..." he waved his hand around. Tony Stark was the only known person who could create self-sustaining energy to such a level.

"It can only handle...so much... I'm working...on something...better," his head turned to Barry and his team. "Hook me up... to anything...I'll take a car battery...won't be the first time."

Oliver watched the techs look between each other before setting to work, one searching for cables while the other cracked open the mains in the wall. Ollie really hoped they had a plan and were not just going to plug Tony straight to it. Tony was watching too and said nothing, so Oliver guessed he was right.

"No... Never mind. It'll... be fine..."

Oliver gave the man encased in metal a funny look, tilting his head back so he could see it. "You don't look fine."

"I just need time...to settle. It...will work again-"

"Can you die before then?"

Tony tensed and he knew from the way the blonde squinted that the other man knew something was amiss. To be honest, he was a little glad, the sharp wiggling in his chest said that the shrapnel was shifting. He cringed at the pain, his pants becoming faster.

"It's not...impossible."

He had to hold out.

Oliver leaned forward, his mouth to the side of the helmet. "What are you worried about?" he mumbled.

"I'd... have...to take... the... armour off," he gasped. "I'll be...exposed..."

"I'll protect you," Oliver swore, taking hold of one of the older man's gauntlet in his own rubber gloved hand.

"They'll...know...who I... am..." Tony swallowed. "Even...without seeing... my face...they'll find...out."

Oliver frowned. He wanted to argue that point but Tony's breathing was getting worse and the arc reactor was shutting off for longer periods.

Caitlin ran over. "Okay. How do we-"

"You don't...I'll be... fine."

"The armour has to come off," Oliver tightened his grip but he doubted Tony would really be able to feel it. "I'm not going to let you die."

"Knowing...me...knowing you." Tony forced out his words, as few as he could to get his message across. The pain ripping through his body was unbearable.

Oliver understood. It was already pretty well rumoured that Oliver was the Arrow and connecting the dots between Oliver and the fact that Tony Stark was working with the Arrow, would not be difficult. Ollie wanted to ask what was running through his business partner's head, argue how he could even think that his life meant less than keeping Oliver's identity hidden.

Oliver could not help but think of his first week back in Starling, how he had been kidnapped and had to kill the team that had taken him. The first few were in self-defence but he had to run down and kill the last man.

Life was not black and white. There was a spectrum, many shades of grey. Killing those men meant he could save lives, but Tony was a good man, he just wanted to help. And who would find out were not unknown mercs, but a fellow group who were trying to right their wrongs...Oliver could always blackmail them with Barry's talent, anyhow.

No. Oliver had come back to Starling to avenge his father, to find meaning behind his death. Saving people had not been the plan, just another way to honour his father. Now, it was a way of life he never wanted to lose but...

Oliver met the flashing blue slits.

He would never leave a person to die like, let alone a friend.

"Okay," Oliver clicked off the voice before grabbing the front of the hood and throwing it back. "I'll go first."

* * *

><p><strong>Little Easter egg: Hang By, Hang By by Razorlight. Look up the lyrics. Well done if you spotted it.<strong>


End file.
